THE 

LUCK  OF  BOAKING  CAMP 

AND  OTHER  SKETCHES 

BY 

BEET  HAUTE 


BOSTON   AND   NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN    COMPANY 
fitoerjibe  $w$?  Cambribge 


V   t 


W'M\ 


COPYRIGHT,    1871,   1872,   AND   1875,   BY  JAMES   R.   OSGOOD   &   CO. 

COPYRIGHT,    1899  AND    ^900,   BY   BRET  HARTE 
COPYRIGHT,   1903,   BY   HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN   &   CO. 

ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 


CONTENTS. 


THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING  CAMP 9 

MLISS 30 

THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT,, 80 

HIGGLES 101 

TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER 123 

THE  IDYL  OF  RED  GULCH 142 

How  SANTA  GLAUS  CAME  TO  SIMPSON'S  BAR  .     .161 

THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS 190 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW     ....  233 
THE  PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS   ....  255 


THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING  CAMP. 

THERE  was  commotion  in  Roaring  Camp. 
It  could  not  have  been  a  fight,  for  in  1850 
that  was  not  novel  enough  to  have  called  to 
gether  the  entire  settlement.  The  ditches 
and  claims  were  not  only  deserted,  but  "  Tut- 
tle's  grocery  "  had  contributed  its  gamblers, 
who,  it  will  be  remembered,  calmly  contin 
ued  their  game  the  day  that  French  Pete 
and  Kanaka  Joe  shot  each  other  to  death 
over  the  bar  in  the  front  room.  The  whole 
camp  was  collected  before  a  rude  cabin  on 
the  outer  edge  of  the  clearing.  Conversa 
tion  was  carried  on  in  a  low  tone,  but  the 
name  of  a  woman  was  frequently  repeated. 
It  was  a  name  familiar  enough  in  the  camp, 
—  "Cherokee  Sal." 

Perhaps  the  less  said  of  her  the  better. 
She  was  a  coarse,  and,  it  is  to  be  feared,  a 
very  sinful  woman.  But  at  that  time  she 
was  the  only  woman  in  Roaring  Camp,  and 
was  just  then  lying  in  sore  extremity,  when 


..1Q  .,  t.THE9L&GK  OF  ROARING   CAMP. 

••  •'  •  '*  'she  nAdst"  Heeded  the  ministration  of  her  own 
sex.  Dissolute,  abandoned,  and  irreclaim 
able,  she  was  yet  suffering  a  martyrdom 
hard  enough  to  bear  even  when  veiled  by 
sympathizing  womanhood,  but  now  terrible 
in  her  loneliness.  The  primal  curse  had 
come  to  her  in  that  original  isolation  which 
must  have  made  the  punishment  of  the  first 
transgression  so  dreadful.  It  was,  perhaps, 
part  of  the  expiation  of  her  sin  that,  at  a 
moment  when  she  most  lacked  her  sex's  in 
tuitive  tenderness  and  care,  she  met  only  the 
half-contemptuous  faces  of  her  masculine  as 
sociates.  Yet  a  few  of  the  spectators  were, 
I  think,  touched  by  her  sufferings.  Sandy 
Tipton  thought  it  was  "  rough  on  Sal,"  and, 
in  the  contemplation  of  her  condition,  for  a 
moment  rose  superior  to  the  fact  that  he  had 
an  ace  and  two  bowers  in  his  sleeve. 

It  will  be  seen,  also,  that  the  situation  was 
novel.  Deaths  were  by  no  means  uncommon 
in  Roaring  Camp,  but  a  birth  was  a  new 
thing.  People  had  been  dismissed  the  camp 
effectively,  finally,  and  with  no  possibility  of 
return  ;  but  this  was  the  first  time  that  any 
body  had  been  introduced  ab  initio.  Hence 
the  excitement. 

"  You  go  in  there,  Stumpy,"  said  a  prom- 


THE  LUCK   OF  ROARING    CAMP.  H 

inent  citizen  known  as  "  Kentuck,"  address 
ing  one  of  the  loungers.  "  Go  in  there,  and 
see  what  you  kin  do.  You've  had  experi 
ence  in  them  things." 

Perhaps  there  was  a  fitness  in  the  selec 
tion.    Stumpy,  in  other  climes,  had  been  the 
putative  head  of   two    families;  in   fact,  it 
was  owing  to  some  legal  informality  in  these 
proceedings  that  Soaring' Camp  —  a  city  of 
refuge  —  was  indebted  to  his  company.   The 
crowd  approved  the  choice,  and  Stumpy  was 
wise  enough  to  bow  to  the  majority.     The 
door  closed  on  the  extempore  surgeon  and 
midwife,  and  Koaring  Camp  sat  down  out 
side,  smoked  its  pipe,  and  awaited  the  issue. 
The  assemblage  numbered  about  a  hundred 
men.     One  or  two  of  these  were  actual  fugi 
tives  from  justice,  some  were  criminal,  and  all 
were  reckless.    Physically,  they  exhibited  no 
indication  of  their  past  lives  and  character. 
The  greatest  scamp  had  a  Raphael  face,  with 
a  profusion  of  blonde  hair ;  Oakhurst,  a  gam 
bler,  had  the  melancholy  aic  and  intellectual 
abstraction  of   a  Hamlet;   the    coolest   and 
most  courageous  man  was  scarcely  over  five 
feet  in  height,  with  a  soft  voice  and  an  embar 
rassed,  timid  manner.      The  term  "  roughs  " 
applied  to  them  was  a  distinction  rather  than 


12  THE  LUCK   OF  ROARING   CAMP. 

a  definition.  Perhaps  in  the  minor  details  of 
fingers,  toes,  ears,  etc.,  the  camp  may  have 
been  deficient,  but  these  slight  omissions  did 
not  detract  from  their  aggregate  force.  The 
strongest  man  had  but  three  fingers  on  his 
right  hand ;  the  best  shot  had  but  one  eye. 

Such  was  the  physical  aspect  of  the  men 
that  were  dispersed  around  the  cabin.  The 
camp  lay  in  a  triangular  valley,  between  two 
hills  and  a  river.  The  only  outlet  was  a 
steep  trail  over  the  summit  of  a  hill  that 
faced  the  cabin,  now  illuminated  by  the  ris 
ing  moon.  The  suffering  woman  might  have 
seen  it  from  the  rude  bunk  whereon  she  lay, 
—  seen  it  winding  like  a  silver  thread  until 
it  was  lost  in  the  stars  above. 

A  fire  of  withered  pine-boughs  added  so 
ciability  to  the  gathering.  By  degrees  the 
natural  levity  of  Roaring  Camp  returned. 
Bets  were  freely  offered  and  taken  regard 
ing  the  result.  Three  to  five  that  "  Sal  would 
get  through  with  it ; "  even  that  the  child 
would  survive  ;  side  bets  as  to  the  sex  and 
complexion  of  the  coming  stranger.  In  the 
midst  of  an  excited  discussion  an  exclama 
tion  came  from  those  nearest  the  door,  and 
the  camp  stopped  to  listen.  Above  the  sway, 
ing  and  moaning  of  the  pines,  the  swift  rush 


THE  LUCK   OF  ROARING   CAMP.  13 

of  the  river,  and  the  crackling  of  the  fire 
rose  a  sharp,  querulous  cry,  —  a  cry  unlike 
anything  heard  before  in  the  camp.  The 
pines  stopped  moaning ;  the  river  ceased  to 
rush,  and  the  fire  to  crackle.  It  seemed  as 
if  Nature  had  stopped  to  listen,  too. 

The  camp  rose  to  its  feet  as  one  man !     It 
was  proposed  to  explode  a  Barrel  of  gunpow 
der,  but,  in  consideration  of  the  situation  of 
the  mother,  better  counsels  prevailed,  and 
only  a  few  revolvers  were  discharged :  for, 
whether  owing  to  the   rude  surgery  of   the 
camp,  or  some  other  reason,  Cherokee  Sal 
was  sinking  fast.    Within  an  hour  she  had 
climbed,  as  it  were,  that  rugged  road  that  led 
to  the  stars,  and  so  passed  out  of  Eoaring 
Camp,  its  sin  and  shame,  forever.    I  do  not 
think  that  the  announcement  disturbed  them 
much,  except  in  speculation  as  to  the  fate  of 
the  child.  "  Can  he  live  now  ?  "  was  asked  of 
Stumpy.     The  answer   was  doubtful.     The 
only  other  being  of  Cherokee  Sal's  sex  and 
maternal  condition  in  the  settlement  was  an 
ass.    There  was  some  conjecture  as  to  fitness, 
but  the  experiment  was  tried.     It  was  less 
problematical  than  the  ancient  treatment  of 
Romulus  and  Remus,  and  apparently  as  suc 
cessful. 


14  THE  LUCK   OF  ROARING   CAMP. 

When  these  details  were  completed,  which 
exhausted  another  hour,  the  door  was  opened, 
and  the  anxious  crowd  of  men,  who  had  al 
ready  formed  themselves  into  a  queue,  entered 
in  single  file.     Beside  the  low  bunk  or  shelf, 
on  which  the  figure  of  the  mother  was  starkly 
outlined   below  the  blankets,   stood  a  pine 
table.    On  this  a  candle-box  was  placed,  and 
within  it,  swathed  in  staring  red  flannel,  lay 
the  last  arrival  at  Roaring  Camp.     Beside 
the  candle-box  was  placed  a  hat.    Its  use  was 
soon  indicated.    "  Gentlemen,"  said  Stumpy, 
with  a  singular  mixture  of   authority  and 
ex  officio  complacency,  —  "Gentlemen  will 
please  pass  in  at  the  front  door,  round  the 
table,  and  out  at  the  back  door.     Them  as 
wishes   to   contribute   anything   toward  the 
orphan  will  find  a  hat  handy."     The  first 
man  entered  with  his  hat  on ;  he  uncovered, 
however,  as  he  looked  about  him,  and  so, 
unconsciously,  set  an  example  to  the  next. 
In  such  communities  good  and  bad  actions 
are   catching.     As  the   procession  filed  in, 
comments    were    audible,  —  criticisms    ad 
dressed,  perhaps,  rather  to  Stumpy,  in  the 
character   of    showman:      "Is   that   him?" 
"  Mighty  small  specimen ; "  "  Has  n't  mor  'n 
got  the  color ; "   "  Ain't  bigger  nor  a  derrin- 


THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP.  15 

ger."     The  contributions  were  as  character 
istic:  a  silver  tobacco-box;   a  doubloon;  a 
navy  revolver,  silver  mounted ;  a  gold  speci 
men  ;  a  very  beautifully  embroidered  lady's 
handkerchief  (from  Oakhurst  the  gambler)  ; 
a  diamond  breastpin ;  a  diamond  ring  (sug 
gested  by  the  pin,  with  the  remark  from  the 
giver  that  he  "  saw  that  gin  and  went  two 
diamonds  better  ")  ;  a  slung  shot ;   a  Bible 
(contributor  not  detected)  ;  a  golden  spur  ; 
a  silver  teaspoon  (the  initials,  I  regret  to 
say,  were  not  the  giver's)  ;   a  pair  of  sur 
geon's  shears ;  a  lancet ;  a  Bank  of  England 
note  for  £5 ;  and  about  $200  in  loose  gold 
and  silver  coin.     During  these  proceedings 
Stumpy  maintained  a  silence  as  impassive  as 
the  dead  on  his  left,  a  gravity  as  inscrutable 
as  that  of  the  newly  born  on  his  right.    Only 
one  incident  occurred  to  break  the  monotony 
of  the  curious  procession.     As  Kentuck  bent 
over  the  candle-box  half  curiously,  the  child 
turned,  and,  in  a  spasm  of  pain,  caught  at 
his  groping  finger,  and  held  it  fast  for  a 
moment.     Kentuck  looked  foolish  and  em 
barrassed.     Something  like  a  blush  tried  to 
assert   itself   in   his  weather-beaten  cheek. 
"The  d— d  little  cuss!"  he  said,  as  he  ex 
tricated  his  finger,  with  perhaps  more  ten- 


16  THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP. 

derness  and  care  than  he  might  have  been 
deemed  capable  of  showing.  He  held  that 
finger  a  little  apart  from  its  fellows  as  he 
went  out,  and  examined  it  curiously.  The 
examination  provoked  the  same  original  re 
mark  in  regard  to  the  child.  In  fact,  he 
seemed  to  enjoy  repeating  it.  "  He  rastled 
with  my  finger,"  he  remarked  to  Tipton,  hold 
ing  up  the  member,  "  the  d — d  little  cuss !  " 
It  was  four  o'clock  before  the  camp  sought 
repose.  A  light  burnt  in  the  cabin  where 
the  watchers  sat,  for  Stumpy  did  not  go  to 
bed  that  night.  Nor  did  Kentuck.  He  drank 
quite  freely,  and  related  with  great  gusto  his 
experience,  invariably  ending  with  his  char 
acteristic  condemnation  of  the  new-comer. 
It  seemed  to  relieve  him  of  any  unjust  im 
plication  of  sentiment,  and  Kentuck  had  the 
weaknesses  of  the  nobler  sex.  When  every 
body  else  had  gone  to  bed,  he  walked  down 
to  the  river  and  whistled  reflectingly.  Then 
he  walked  up  the  gulch,  past  the  cabin,  still 
whistling  with  demonstrative  unconcern.  At 
a  large  redwood  tree  he  paused  and  retraced 
his  steps,  and  again  passed  the  cabin.  Half 
way  down  to  the  river's  bank  he  again 
paused,  and  then  returned  and  knocked  at 
the  door.  It  was  opened  by  Stumpy.  "  How 


THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING  CAMP.  17 

goes  it?"  said  Ken  tuck,  looking  past  Stumpy 
toward  the  candle-box.  "  All  serene,"  re 
plied  Stumpy.  "Any  thing  up?"  "Nothing." 
There  was  a  pause, — an  embarrassing  one, 
—  Stumpy  still  holding  the  door.  Then 
Kentuck  had  recourse  to  his  finger,  which  he 
held  up  to  Stumpy.  "  Rastled  with  it,  —  the 
d — d  little  cuss,"  he  said,  and  retired. 

The  next  day  Cherokee  Sal  had  such  rude 
sepulture  as  Roaring  Camp  afforded.  After 
her  body  had  been  committed  to  the  hillside, 
there  was  a  formal  meeting  of  the  camp  to 
discuss  what  should  be  done  with  her  infant. 
A  resolution  to  adopt  it  was  unanimous  and 
enthusiastic.  But  an  animated  discussion  in 
regard  to  the  manner  and  feasibility  of  pro 
viding  for  its  wants  at  once  sprang  up.  It 
was  remarkable  that  the  argument  partook 
of  none  of  those  fierce  personalities  with 
which  discussions  were  usually  conducted  at 
Roaring  Camp.  Tipton  proposed  that  they 
should  send  the  child  to  Red  Dog,  —  a  dis 
tance  of  forty  miles,  —  where  female  attention 
could  be  procured.  But  the  unlucky  sug 
gestion  met  with  fierce  and  unanimous  oppo 
sition.  It  was  evident  that  no  plan  which 
entailed  parting  from  their  new  acquisition 
would  for  a  moment  be  entertained.  "  Be- 


18  THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP. 

sides,"  said  Tom  Ryder,  "them  fellows  at 
Red  Dog  would  swap  it,  and  ring  in  some 
body  else  on  us."  A  disbelief  in  the  honesty 
of  other  camps  prevailed  at  Roaring  Camp, 
as  in  other  places. 

The  introduction  of  a  female  nurse  in  the 
camp  also  met  with  objection.    It  was  argued 
that  no  decent  woman  could  be  prevailed  to 
accept  Roaring  Camp  as  her  home,  and  the 
speaker  urged  that  "  they  did  n't  want  any 
more  of  the  other  kind."     This  unkind  allu 
sion  to  the  defunct  mother,  harsh  as  it  may 
seem,  was  the  first  spasm  of  propriety,  —  the 
first  symptom  of   the  camp's  regeneration. 
Stumpy  advanced  nothing.     Perhaps  he  felt 
a  certain   delicacy  in   interfering  with  the 
selection  of  a  possible   successor   in   office. 
But  when  questioned  he  averred  stoutly  that 
he  and  "Jinny"  —  the  mammal  before  al 
luded  to —  could  manage  to  rear  the  child. 
There  was  something  original,  independent, 
and  heroic  about  the  plan  that  pleased  the 
camp.     Stumpy  was  retained.     Certain  arti 
cles  were  sent  for  to  Sacramento.     "  Mind," 
said  the  treasurer,  as  he  pressed  a  bag  of 
gold-dust  into  the  expressman's  hand,  "  the 
best  that  can  be  got,  — lace,  you  know,  and 
filigree-work  and  frills,  —  d— n  the  cost ! ' 


THE  LUCK   OF  ROARING   CAMP.  19 

Strange  to  say,  the  child  thrived.  Perhaps 
the  invigorating  climate  of  the  mountain 
camp  was  compensation  for  material  defi 
ciencies.  Nature  took  the  foundling  to  her 
broader  breast.  In  that  rare  atmosphere  of 
the  Sierra  foot-hills,  —  that  air  pungent  with 
balsamic  odor,  that  ethereal  cordial  at  once 
bracing  and  exhilarating,  —  he  may  have 
found  food  and  nourishment,  or  a  subtle 
chemistry  that  transmuted  ass's  milk  to  lime 
and  phosphorus.  Stumpy  inclined  to  the 
belief  that  it  was  the  latter  and  good  nurs 
ing.  "  Me  and  that  ass,"  he  would  say,  "  has 
been  father  and  mother  to  him  !  Don't  you," 
he  would  add,  apostrophizing  the  helpless 
bundle  before  him,  "  never  go  back  on  us." 

By  the  time  he  was  a  month  old  the  neces 
sity  of  giving  him  a  name  became  apparent. 
He  had  generally  been  known  as  "  The  Kid," 
"Stumpy's  Boy,"  "The  Coyote"  (an  allu 
sion  to  his  vocal  powers),  and  even  by  Ken- 
tuck's  endearing  diminutive  of  "The  d— d 
little  cuss."  But  these  were  felt  to  be  vague 
and  unsatisfactory,  and  were  at  last  dismissed 
under  another  influence.  Gamblers  and  ad 
venturers  are  generally  superstitious,  and 
Oakhurst  one  day  declared  that  the  baby 
had  brought  "  the  luck  "  to  Roaring  Camp. 


20  THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING  CAMP. 

It  was  certain  that  of  late  they  had  been 
successful.  "Luck"  was  the  name  agreed 
upon,  with  the  prefix  of  Tommy  for  greater 
convenience.  No  allusion  was  made  to  the 
mother,  and  the  father  was  unknown.  "  It 's 
better,"  said  thfe  philosophical  Oakhurst,  "  to 
take  a  fresh  deal  all  round.  Call  him  Luck, 
and  start  him  fair."  A  day  was  accordingly 
6et  apart  for  the  christening.  What  was 
meant  by  this  ceremony  the  reader  may  imag 
ine,  who  has  already  gathered  some  idea  of 
the  reckless  irreverence  of  Roaring  Camp. 
The  master  of  ceremonies  was  one  "  Boston," 
a  noted  wag,  and  the  occasion  seemed  to 
promise  the  greatest  facetiousness.  This  in 
genious  satirist  had  spent  two  days  in  pre 
paring  a  burlesque  of  the  Church  service, 
with  pointed  local  allusions.  The  choir  was 
properly  trained,  and  Sandy  Tipton  was  to 
stand  godfather.  But  after  the  procession 
had  marched  to  the  grove  with  music  and 
banners,  and  the  child  had  been  deposited 
before  a  mock  altar,  Stumpy  stepped  before 
the  expectant  crowd.  "  It  ain't  my  style  to 
spoil  fun,  boys,"  said  the  little  man,  stoutly 
eying  the  faces  around  him,  "  but  it  strikes 
me  that  this  thing  ain't  exactly  on  the  squar. 
It 's  playing  it  pretty  low  down  on  this  yer 


THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP.  21 

baby  to  ring  in  fun  on  him  that  he  ain't 
goin'  to  understand.     And  ef  there  's  going 
to  be  any  godfathers  round,  I  'd  like  to  see 
who  's  got  any  better  rights  than  me."     A 
silence  followed  Stumpy's  speech.     To  the 
credit  of  all  humorists  be  it  said  that  the 
first  man  to  acknowledge  its  justice  was  the 
satirist,  thus  stopped  of  his  fun.    "  But,"  said 
Stumpy,  quickly  following  iip  his  advantage, 
"  we  're  here  for  a  christening,  and  we  '11  have 
it.     I  proclaim  you  Thomas  Luck,  according 
to  the  laws  of  the  United  States   and  the 
State  of  California,  so  help  me  God."     It 
was  the  first  time  that  the  name  of  the  Deity 
had  been  otherwise  uttered  than  profanely 
in  the  camp.     The  form  of  christening  was 
perhaps  even  more  ludicrous   than  the  sat 
irist  had  conceived ;  but,  strangely  enough, 
nobody  saw  it  and  nobody  laughed.     "Tom 
my  "  was  christened  as  seriously  as  he  would 
have  been  under  a  Christian  roof,  and  cried 
and  was  comforted  in  as  orthodox  fashion. 

And  so  the  work  of  regeneration  began 
in  Roaring  Camp.  Almost  imperceptibly  a 
change  came  over  the  settlement.  The  cabin 
assigned  to  "  Tommy  Luck  "  —  or  "  The. 
Luck,"  as  he  was  more  frequently  called  — 
first  showed  signs  of  improvement.  It  was 


22  THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING  CAMP. 

kept  scrupulously  clean  and  whitewashed. 
Then  it  was  boarded,  clothed,  and  papered. 
The  rosewood  cradle  —  packed  eighty  miles 
by  mule  —  had,  in  Stumpy 's  way  of  putting 
it,  "  sorter  killed  the  rest  of  the  furniture." 
So  the  rehabilitation  of  the  cabin  became  a 
necessity.  The  men  who  were  in  the  habit 
of  lounging  in  at  Stumpy's  to  see  "how 
4  The  Luck  '  got  on  "  seemed  to  appreciate 
the  change,  and,  in  self-defence,  the  rival  es 
tablishment  of  "  Tuttle's  grocery  "  bestirred 
itself,  and  imported  a  carpet  and  mirrors. 
The  reflections  of  the  latter  on  the  appear 
ance  of  Roaring  Camp  tended  to  produce 
stricter  habits  of  personal  cleanliness.  Again, 
Stumpy  imposed  a  kind  of  quarantine  upon 
those  who  aspired  to  the  honor  and  privilege 
of  holding  The  Luck.  It  was  a  cruel  mor 
tification  to  Kentuck  —  who,  in  the  care 
lessness  of  a  large  nature  and  the  habits  of 
frontier  life,  had  begun  to  regard  all  gar 
ments  as  a  second  cuticle,  which,  like  a 
snake's,  only  sloughed  off  through  decay  — 
to  be  debarred  this  privilege  from  certain 
prudential  reasons.  Yet  such  was  the  sub 
tle  influence  of  innovation,  that  he  therer 
after  appeared  regularly  every  afternoon  in 
a  clean  shirt,  and  face  still  shining  from  his 


TEE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP.  23 

ablutions.  Nor  were  moral  and  social  san 
itary  laws  neglected.  "Tommy,"  who  was 
supposed  to  spend  his  whole  existence  in  a 
persistent  attempt  to  repose,  must  not  be  dis 
turbed  by  noise.  The  shouting  and  yelling 
which  had  gained  the  camp  its  infelicitous 
title  were  not  permitted  within  hearing  dis 
tance  of  Stumpy's.  The  men  conversed  in 
whispers,  or  smoked  with  Indian  gravity. 
Profanity  was  tacitly  given  up  in  these  sacred 
precincts,  and  throughout  the  camp  a  popu 
lar  form  of  expletive,  known  as  "  D — n  the 
luck !  "  and  "  Curse  the  luck  !  "  was  aban 
doned,  as  having  a  new  personal  bearing. 
Vocal  music  was  not  interdicted,  being  sup 
posed  to  have  a  soothing,  tranquillizing  qual 
ity,  and  one  song,  sung  by  "  Man-o'-War 
Jack,"  an  English  sailor  from  her  Majesty's 
Australian  colonies,  was  quite  popular  as  a 
lullaby.  It  was  a  lugubrious  recital  of  the 
exploits  of  "  the  Arethusa,  Seventy-four,"  in 
a  muffled  minor,  ending  with  a  prolonged 
dying  fall  at  the  burden  of  each  verse,  "On 
b-oo-o-ard  of  the  Arethusa."  It  was  a  fine 
sight  to  see  Jack  holding  The  Luck,  rocking 
from  side  to  side  as  if  with  the  motion  of  a 
ship,  and  crooning  forth  this  naval  ditty. 
Either  through  the  peculiar  rocking  of  Jack 


24  THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING  CAMP. 

or  the  length  of  his  song,  —  it  contained 
ninety  stanzas,  and  was  continued  with  con 
scientious  deliberation  to  the  bitter  end, — 
the  lullaby  generally  had  the  desired  effect. 
At  such  times  the  men  would  lie  at  full  length 
under  the  trees,  in  the  soft  summer  twilight, 
smoking  their  pipes  and  drinking  in  the 
melodious  utterances.  An  indistinct  idea 
that  this  was  pastoral  happiness  pervaded 
the  camp.  "  This  'ere  kind  o'  think,"  said 
the  Cockney  Simmons,  meditatively  reclining 
on  his  elbow,  "  is  'evingly."  It  reminded 
him  of  Greenwich. 

On  the  long  summer  days  The  Luck  was 
usually  carried  to  the  gulch,  from  whence 
the  golden  store  of  Roaring  Camp  was  taken. 
There,  on  a  blanket  spread  over  pine-boughs, 
he  would  lie  while  the  men  were  working  in 
the  ditches  below.  Latterly,  there  was  a 
rude  attempt  to  decorate  this  bower  with 
flowers  and  sweet-smelling  shrubs,  and  gen 
erally  some  one  would  bring  him  a  cluster 
of  wild  honeysuckles,  azaleas,  or  the  painted 
blossoms  of  Las  Mariposas.  The  men  had 
suddenly  awakened  to  the  fact  that  there 
were  beauty  and  significance  in  these  trifles 
which  they  had  so  long  trodden  carelessly 
beneath  their  feet.  A  flake  of  glittering 


THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP.  25 

mica,  a  fragment  of  variegated  quartz,  a 
bright  pebble  from  the  bed  of  the  creek, 
became  beautiful  to  eyes  thus  cleared  and 
strengthened,  and  were  invariably  put  aside 
for  The  Luck.  It  was  wonderful  how 
many  treasures  the  woods  and  hillsides 
yielded  that  "  would  do  for  Tommy."  Sur 
rounded  by  playthings  such  as  never  child 
out  of  fairy-land  had  befbre,  it  is  to  be 
hoped  that  Tommy  was  content.  He  ap 
peared  to  be  serenely  happy,  albeit  there 
was  an  infantine  gravity  about  him,  a  con 
templative  light  in  his  round  gray  eyes,  that 
sometimes  worried  Stumpy.  He  was  always 
tractable  and  quiet,  and  it  is  recorded  that 
once,  having  crept  beyond  his  "  corral,"  — 
a  hedge  of  tessellated  pine-boughs  which  sur 
rounded  his  bed,  —  he  dropped  over  the 
bank  on  his  head  in  the  soft  earth,  and  re< 
mained  with  his  mottled  legs  in  the  air  in 
that  position  for  at  least  five  minutes  with 
unflinching  gravity.  He  was  extricated 
without  a  murmur.  I  hesitate  to  record  the 
many  other  instances  of  his  sagacity,  which 
rest,  unfortunately,  upon  the  statements  of 
prejudiced  friends.  Some  of  them  were  not 
without  a  tinge  of  superstition.  "  I  crep'  up 
the  bank  just  now,"  said  Kentuck  one  day, 


26  THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP. 

in  a  breathless  state  of  excitement,  "  and 
dern  my  skin  if  he  was  n't  a  talking  to  a 
jaybird  as  was  a  sittin'  on  his  lap.  There 
they  was,  just  as  free  and  sociable  as  any 
thing  you  please,  a  jawin'  at  each  other  just 
like  two  cherrybums."  Howbeit,  whether 
creeping  over  the  pine-boughs  or  lying  lazily 
on  his  back  blinking  at  the  leaves  above 
him,  to  him  the  birds  sang,  the  squirrels 
chattered,  and  the  flowers  bloomed.  Nature 
was  his  nurse  and  playfellow.  For  him  she 
would  let  slip  between  the  leaves  golden 
shafts  of  sunlight  that  fell  just  within  his 
grasp ;  she  would  send  wandering  breezes  to 
visit  him  with  the  balm  of  bay  and  resinous 
gum:  to  him  the  tall  redwoods  nodded  fa 
miliarly  and  sleepily,  the  bumble-bees  buzzed, 
and  the  rooks  cawed  a  slumbrous  accompa 
niment. 

Such  was  the  golden  summer  of  Roaring 
Camp.  They  were  "flush  times," -  — and 
the  luck  was  with  them.  The  claims  had 
yielded  enormously.  The  camp  was  jealous 
of  its  privileges  and  looked  suspiciously  on 
strangers.  No  encouragement  was  given  to 
immigration,  and,  to  make  their  seclusion 
more  perfect,  the  land  on  either  side  of  the 
mountain  wall  that  surrounded  the  camp 


THE  LUCK   OF  ROARING   CAMP.  27 

they  duly  preempted.  This,  and  a  reputa 
tion  for  singular  proficiency  with  the  re 
volver,  kept  the  reserve  of  Eoaring  Camp 
inviolate.  The  expressman  —  their  only 
connecting  link  with  the  surrounding  world 
—  sometimes  told  wonderful  stories  of  the 
camp.  He  would  say,  "  They  've  a  street 
up  there  in  '  Roaring '  that  would  lay  over 
any  street  in  Red  Dog.  'They  Ve  got  vines 
and  flowers  round  their  houses,  and  they 
wash  themselves  twice  a  day.  But  they  're 
mighty  rough  on  strangers,  and  they  wor 
ship  an  Ingin  baby." 

With  the  prosperity  of  the  camp  came 
a  desire  for  further  improvement.  It  was 
proposed  to  build  a  hotel  in  the  following 
spring,  and  to  invite  one  or  two  decent 
families  to  reside  there  for  the  sake  of 
The  Luck,  who  might  perhaps  profit  by  fe 
male  companionship.  The  sacrifice  that  this 
concession  to  the  sex  cost  these  men,  who 
were  fiercely  skeptical  in  regard  to  its  gen 
eral  virtue  and  usefulness,  can  only  be  ac 
counted  for  by  their  affection  for  Tommy. 
A  few  still  held  out.  But  the  resolve  could 
not  be  carried  into  effect  for  three  months, 
and  the  minority  meekly  yielded  in  the  hope 
that  something  might  turn  up  to  prevent  it 
And  it  did. 


28  THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP. 

The  winter  of  1851  will  long  be  remem 
bered  in  the  foot-hills.  The  snow  lay  deep 
on  the  Sierras,  and  every  mountain  creek 
became  a  river,  and  every  river  a  lake. 
Each  gorge  and  gulch  was  transformed  into 
a  tumultuous  watercourse,  that  descended 
the  hillsides,  tearing  down  giant  trees  and 
scattering  its  drift  and  de'bris  along  the 
plain.  Red  Dog  had  been  twice  under  wa 
ter,  and  Roaring  Camp  had  been  forewarned. 
"Water  put  the  gold  into  them  gulches," 
said  Stumpy.  "It  's  been  here  once  and 
will  be  here  again !  "  And  that  night  the 
North  Fork  suddenly  leaped  over  its  banks, 
and  swept  up  the  triangular  valley  of  Roar 
ing  Camp. 

In  the  confusion  of  rushing  water,  crashing 
trees,  and  crackling  timber,  and  the  dark 
ness  which  seemed  to  flow  with  the  water 
and  blot  out  the  fair  valley,  but  little  could 
be  done  to  collect  the  scattered  camp.  When 
the  morning  broke,  the  cabin  of  Stumpy, 
nearest  the  river-bank,  was  gone.  Higher 
up  the  gulch  they  found  the  body  of  its  un 
lucky  owner;  but  the  pride,  the  hope,  the 
joy,  The  Luck,  of  Roaring  Camp  had  dis 
appeared.  They  were  returning  with  sad 
hearts,  when  a  shout  from  the  bank  recalled 
them. 


THE  LUCK  OF  ROARING   CAMP.  29 

It  was  a  relief-boat  from  down  the  river. 
They  had  picked  up,  they  said,  a  man  and 
an  infant,  nearly  exhausted,  about  two  miles 
below.  Did  anybody  know  them,  and  did 
they  belong  hero'; 

It  needed  but  a  glance  to  show  them  Ken- 
tuck  lying  there  cruelly  crushed  and  bruised, 
but  still  holding  The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp 
in  his  arms.  As  they  bent 'over  the  strangely 
assorted  pair  they  saw  that  the  child  was 
cold  and  pulseless.  "  He  is  dead,"  said  one. 
Kentuck  opened  his  eyes.  "  Dead  ?  "  he 
repeated  feebly.  "Yes,  my  man,  and  you 
are  dying  too."  A  smile  lit  the  eyes  of  the 
expiring  Kentuck.  "  Dying !  "  he  repeated  ; 
"  he  's  a  taking  me  with  him.  Tell  the  boys 
I  've  got  The  Luck  with  me  now ;  "  and  the 
strong  man,  clinging  to  the  frail  babe  as  a 
drowning  man  is  said  to  cling  to  a  straw, 
drifted  away  into  the  shadowy  river  that 
Hows  forever  to  the  unknown  sea. 


MLISS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

JUST  where  the  Sierra  Nevada  begins  to 
subside  in  gentler  undulations,  and  the  riv 
ers  grow  less  rapid  and  yellow,  on  the  side 
of  a  great  red  mountain,  stands  "  Smith's 
Pocket."  Seen  from  the  red  road  at  sunset, 
in  the  red  light  and  the  red  dust,  its  white 
houses  look  like  the  outcroppings  of  quartz 
on  the  mountain-side.  The  red  stage  topped 
with  red-shirted  passengers  is  lost  to  view 
half  a  dozen  times  in  the  tortuous  descent, 
turning  up  unexpectedly  in  out-of-the-way 
places,  and  vanishing  altogether  within  a 
hundred  yards  of  the  town.  It  is  probably 
owing  to  this  sudden  twist  in  the  road  that 
the  advent  of  a  stranger  at  Smith's  Pocket 
is  usually  attended  with  a  peculiar  circum 
stance.  Dismounting  from  the  vehicle  at  the 
stage-office,  the  too  confident  traveller  is  apt 
to  walk  straight  out  of  town  under  the  im 
pression  tha^  *t  lies  in  quite  another  direc- 


ML1SS.  31 

tion.  It  is  related  that  one  of  the  tunnel- 
men,  two  miles  from  town,  met  one  of  these 
self-reliant  passengers  with  a  carpet-bag, 
umbrella,  Harper's  Magazine,  and  other  evi~ 
dences  of  "  civilization  and  refinement," 
plodding  along  over  the  road  he  had  just 
ridden,  vainly  endeavoring  to  find  the  settle- 
ment  of  Smith's  Pocket. 

An  observant  traveller  might  have  found 
Some  compensation  for  his  disappointment 
in  the  weird  aspect  of  that  vicinity.  There 
were  huge  fissures  on  the  hillside,  and  dis 
placements  of  the  red  soil,  resembling  more 
the  chaos  of  some  primary  elemental  up 
heaval  than  the  work  of  man  ;  while,  half 
way  down,  a  long  flume  straddled  its  nar 
row  body  and  disproportionate  legs  over  the 
chasm,  like  an  enormous  fossil  of  some  for 
gotten  antediluvian.  At  every  step  smaller 
ditches  crossed  the  road,  hiding  in  their 
sallow  depths  unlovely  streams  that  crept 
away  to  a  clandestine  union  with  the  great 
yellow  torrent  below,  and  here  and  there 
were  the  ruins  of  some  cabin,  with  the  chim 
ney  alone  left  intact  and  the  hearthstone 
open  to  the  skies. 

The  settlement  of  Smith's  Pocket  owed  its 
origin  to  the  finding  of  a  "  pocket "  on  its 


32  MLISS. 

site  by  a  veritable  Smith.  Five  thousand 
dollars  were  taken  out  of  it  in  one  half-hour 
by  Smith.  Three  thousand  dollars  were  ex 
pended  by  Smith  and  others  in  erecting  a 
flume  and  in  tunnelling.  And  then  Smith's 
Pocket  was  found  to  be  only  a  pocket,  and 
subject,  like  other  pockets,  to  depletion.  Al 
though  Smith  pierced  the  bowels  of  the 
great  red  mountain,  that  five  thousand  dol 
lars  was  the  first  and  last  return  of  his  labor. 
The  mountain  grew  reticent  of  its  golden 
secrets,  and  the  flume  steadily  ebbed  away 
the  remainder  of  Smith's  fortune.  Then 
Smith  went  into  quartz-mining;  then  into 
quartz  -  milling ;  then  into  hydraulics  and 
ditching,  and  then  by  easy  degrees  into  sa 
loon-keeping.  Presently  it  was  whispered 
that  Smith  was  drinking  a  great  deal ;  then 
it  was  known  that  Smith  was  a  habitual 
drunkard ;  and  then  people  began  to  think, 
as  they  are  apt  to,  that  he  had  never  been 
anything  else.  But  the  settlement  of  Smith's 
Pocket,  like  that  of  most  discoveries,  was 
happily  not  dependent  on  the  fortune  of  its 
pioneer,  and  other  parties  projected  tunnels 
and  found  pockets.  So  Smith's  Pocket  be 
came  a  settlement,  with  its  two  fancy  stores, 
its  two  hotels,  its  one  express-office,  and  its 


MLISS. 


two  first  families.  Occasionally  its  one  long 
straggling  street  was  overawed  by  the  as 
sumption  of  the  latest  San  Francisco  fash 
ions,  imported  per  express,  exclusively  to 
fche  first  families  ;  making  outraged  Nature, 
in  the  ragged  outline  of  her  furrowed  sur 
face,  look  still  more  homely,  and  putting 
personal  insult  on  that  greater  portion  of 
the  population  to  whom  the  Sabbath,  with  a 
change  of  linen,  brought  merely  the  neces 
sity  of  cleanliness,  without  the  luxury  of 
adornment.  Then  there  was  a  Methodist 
Church,  and  hard  by  a  Monte  Bank,  and  a 
little  beyond,  on  the  mountain-side,  a  grave 
yard,  and  then  a  little  schoolhouse. 

"  The  Master,"  as  he  was  known  to  his 
little  flock,  sat  alone  one  night  in  the  school- 
house,  with  some  open  copy-books  before 
him,  carefully  making  those  bold  and  full 
characters  which  are  supposed  to  combine 
the  extremes  of  chirographical  and  moral 
excellence,  and  had  got  as  far  as  "  Riches 
are  deceitful,"  and  was  elaborating  the  noun 
with  an  insincerity  of  flourish  that  was  quite 
in  the  spirit  of  his  text,  when  he  heard  a 
gentle  tapping.  The  woodpeckers  had  been 
busy  about  the  roof  during  the  day,  and  the 
noise  did  not  disturb  his  work.  But  the 


34  ML1SS. 

opening  of  the  door,  and  the  tapping  con 
tinuing  from  the  inside,  caused  him  to  look 
up.  He  was  slightly  startled  by  the  figure 
of  a  young  girl,  dirty  and  shabbily  clad. 
Still,  her  great  black  eyes,  her  coarse,  un 
combed,  lustreless  black  hair  falling  over 
her  sunburned  face,  her  red  arms  and  feet 
streaked  with  the  red  soil,  were  all  familiar 
to  him.  It  was  Melissa  Smith,  —  Smith's 
motherless  child. 

"  What  can  she  want  here  ?  "  thought  the 
master.  Everybody  knew  "  Mliss,"  as  she 
was  called,  throughout  the  length  and  height 
of  Red  Mountain.  Everybody  knew  her  as 
an  incorrigible  girl.  Her  fierce,  ungovern 
able  disposition,  her  mad  freaks  and  lawless 
character,  were  in  their  way  as  proverbial  as 
the  story  of  her  father's  weaknesses,  and  as 
philosophically  accepted  by  the  townsfolk. 
She  wrangled  with  and  fought  the  school 
boys  with  keener  invective  and  quite  as 
powerful  arm.  She  followed  the  trails  with 
a  woodman's  craft,  and  the  master  had  met 
her  before,  miles  away,  shoeless,  stocking- 
less,  and  bareheaded  on  the  mountain  road. 
The  miners'  camps  along  the  stream  supplied 
her  with  subsistence,  during  these  voluntary 
pilgrimages,  in  freely  offered  alms.  Not  but 


ML/SS.  35 

that  a  larger  protection  had  been  previ 
ously  extended  to  Mliss.  The  Rev.  Joshua 
McSnagley,  "  stated  "  preacher,  had  placed 
her  in  the  hotel  as  servant,  by  way  of  pre 
liminary  refinement,  and  had  introduced  her 
to  his  scholars  at  Sunday-school.  But  she 
threw  plates  occasionally  at  the  landlord, 
and  quickly  retorted  to  the  cheap  witticisms 
of  the  guests,  and  created  in  the  Sabbath- 
school  a  sensation  that  was  so  inimical  to 
the  orthodox  dulness  and  placidity  of  that 
institution  that,  with  a  decent  regard  for 
the  starched  frocks  and  unblemished  morals 
of  the  two  pink-and-white-faced  children  of 
the  first  families,  the  reverend  gentleman 
had  her  ignominiously  expelled.  Such  were 
the  antecedents  and  such  the  character  of 
Mliss  as  she  stood  before  the  master.  It  was 
shown  in  the  ragged  dress,  the  unkempt 
hair,  and  bleeding  feet,  and  asked  his  pity- 
It  flashed  from  her  black,  fearless  eyes,  and 
commanded  his  respect. 

"  I  come  here  to-night,"  she  said  rapidly 
and  boldly,  keeping  her  hard  glance  on  his, 
"  because  I  knew  you  was  alone.  I  would  n't 
come  here  when  them  gals  was  here.  I 
hate  'em,  and  they  hates  me.  That 's  why. 
You  keep  school,  don't  you  ?  I  want  to  be 
teaehed!" 


36  MLISS. 

If  to  the  shabbiness  of  her  apparel  and 
uncomeliness  of  her  tangled  hair  and  dirty 
face  she  had  added  the  humility  of  tears, 
the  master  would  have  extended  to  her  the 
usual  moiety  of  pity,  and  nothing  more.  But 
with  the  natural,  though  illogical,  instincts 
of  his  species,  her  boldness  awakened  in  him 
something  of  that  respect  which  all  original 
natures  pay  unconsciously  to  one  another  in 
any  grade.  And  he  gazed  at  her  the  more 
fixedly  as  she  went  on,  still  rapidly,  her  hand 
on  that  door-latch  and  her  eyes  on  his :  — 

"  My  name 's  Mliss,  —  Mliss  Smith !  You 
can  bet  your  life  on  that.  My  father's 
Old  Smith,  —  Old  Bummer  Smith,  —  that 's 
what 's  the  matter  with  him.  Mliss  Smith, 
—  and  I  'm  coming  to  school !  " 

"  Well?"  said  the  master. 

Accustomed  to  be  thwarted  and  opposed, 
often  wantonly  and  cruelly,  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  excite  the  violent  impulses 
of  her  nature,  the  master's  phlegm  evidently 
took  her  by  surprise.  She  stopped ;  she  be 
gan  to  twist  a  lock  of  her  hair  between  her 
fingers;  and  the  rigid  line  of  upper  lip, 
drawn  over  the  wicked  little  teeth,  relaxed 
and  quivered  slightly.  Then  her  eyes  dropped, 
and  something  like  a  blush  struggled  up  to 


MLISS.  37 

her  cheek,  and  tried  to  assert  itself  through 
the  splashes  of  redder  soil  and  the  sunburn 
of  years.  Suddenly  she  threw  herself  for 
ward,  calling  on  God  to  strike  her  dead,  and 
fell  quite  weak  and  helpless,  with  her  face 
on  the  master's  desk,  crying  and  sobbing  as 
if  her  heart  would  break. 

The  master  lifted  her  gently,  and  waited 
for  the  paroxysm  to  pass.  When,  with  face 
still  averted,  she  was  repeating  between  her 
sobs  the  mea  culpa  of  childish  penitence,  — 
that  "  she  'd  be  good,  she  did  n't  mean  to," 
etc.,  —  it  came  to  him  to  ask  her  why  she  had 
left  Sabbath-school. 

Why  had  she  left  the  Sabbath-school  ?  — 
why?  Oh,  yes!  What  did  he  (McSnagley) 
want  to  tell  her  she  was  wicked  for  ?  What 
did  he  tell  her  that  God  hated  her  for?  If 
God  hated  her,  what  did  she  want  to  go  to 
Sabbath-school  for  ?  She  did  n't  want  to  be 
"  beholden  "  to  anybody  who  hated  her. 

Had  she  told  McSnagley  this  ? 

Yes,  she  had. 

The  master  laughed.  It  was  a  hearty 
laugh,  and  echoed  so  oddly  in  the  little 
schoolhouse,  and  seemed  so  inconsistent  and 
discordant  with  the  sighing  of  the  pines 
without,  that  he  shortly  corrected  himself 


38  MLTSS. 

with  a  sigh.  The  sigh  was  quite  as  sincere 
in  its  way,  however,  and  after  a  moment  of 
serious  silence  he  asked  about  her  father. 

Her  father?  What  father?  Whose  father? 
What  had  he  ever  done  for  her  ?  Why  did 
the  girls  hate  her  ?  Come  now  !  what  made 
the  folks  say  "  Old  Bummer  Smith's  Mliss!  " 
when  she  passed  ?  Yes ;  oh,  yes !  She  wished 
he  was  dead,  —  she  was  dead,  —  everybody 
was  dead ;  and  her  sobs  broke  forth  anew. 

The  master  then,  leaning  over  her,  told 
her  as  well  as  he  could  what  you  or  I  might 
have  said  after  hearing  such  unnatural  theo 
ries  from  childish  lips ;  only  bearing  in  mind 
perhaps  better  than  you  or  I  the  unnatural 
facts  of  her  ragged  dress,  her  bleeding  feet, 
and  the  omnipresent  shadow  of  her  drunken 
father.  Then  raising  her  to  her  feet,  he 
wrapped  his  shawl  around  her,  and,  bidding 
her  come  early  in  the  morning,  he  walked 
with  her  down  the  road.  There  he  bade  her 
"  good-night."  The  moon  shone  brightly  on 
the  narrow  path  before  them.  He  stood  and 
watched  the  bent  little  figure  as  it  staggered 
down  the  road,  and  waited  until  it  had 
passed  the  little  graveyard  and  reached  the 
curve  of  the  hill,  where  it  turned  and  stood 
for  a  moment,  a  mere  atom  of  suffering,  out- 


MUSS.  3b 

lined  against  the  far-off  patient  stars.  Then 
he  went  back  to  his  work.  But  the  lines 
of  the  copy-book  thereafter  faded  into  long 
parallels  of  never-ending  road,  over  which 
childish  figures  seemed  to  pass  sobbing  and 
crying  into  the  night.  Then,  the  little  school- 
house  seeming  lonelier  than  before,  he  shut 
the  door  and  went  home. 

The  next  morning  Mliss  came  to  school. 
Her  face  had  been  washed,  and  her  coarse 
black  hair  bore  evidence  of  recent  struggles 
with  the  comb,  in  which  both  had  evidently 
suffered.  The  old  defiant  look  shone  occa> 
sionally  in  her  eyes,  but  her  manner  was 
tamer  and  more  subdued.  Then  began  a 
series  of  little  trials  and  self-sacrifices,  in 
which  master  and  pupil  bore  an  equal  part, 
and  which  increased  the  confidence  and  sym 
pathy  between  them.  Although  obedient 
under  the  master's  eye,  at  times  during  re 
cess,  if  thwarted  or  stung  by  a  fancied  slight, 
Mliss  would  rage  in  ungovernable  fury  ;  and 
many  a  palpitating  young  savage,  finding 
himself  matched  with  his  own  weapons  of 
torment,  would  seek  the  master  with  torn 
jacket  and  scratched  face,  and  complaints  of 
the  dreadful  Mliss.  There  was  a  serious 
division  among  the  townspeople  on  the  sul> 


40  MUSS. 

ject ;  some  threatening  to  withdraw  their 
children  from  such  evil  companionship,  and 
others  as  warmly  upholding  the  course  of  the 
master  in  his  work  of  reclamation.  Mean 
while,  with  a  steady  persistence  that  seemed 
quite  astonishing  to  him  on  looking  back  af 
terward,  the  master  drew  Mliss  gradually  out 
of  the  shadow  of  her  past  life,  as  though  it 
were  but  her  natural  progress  down  the  nar 
row  path  on  which  he  had  set  her  feet  the 
moonlit  night  of  their  first  meeting.  Re 
membering  the  experience  of  the  evangelical 
McSnagley,  he  carefully  avoided  that  Rock 
of  Ages  on  which  that  unskilful  pilot  had 
shipwrecked  her  young  faith.  But  if,  in  the 
course  of  her  reading,  she  chanced  to  stum 
ble  upon  those  few  words  which  have  lifted 
such  as  she  above  the  level  of  the  older,  the 
wiser,  and  the  more  prudent,  —  if  she  learned 
something  of  a  faith  that  is  symbolized  by 
suffering,  and  the  old  light  softened  in  her 
eyes,  —  it  did  not  take  the  shape  of  a  lesson. 
A  few  of  the  plainer  people  had  made  up  a 
little  sum  by  which  the  ragged  Mliss  was 
enabled  to  assume  the  garments  of  respect 
and  civilization  ;  and  often  a  rough  shake  of 
the  hand  and  words  of  homely  commenda 
tion  from  a  red-shirted  and  burly  figure  sent 


MLISS.  41 

a  glow  to  the  cheek  »of  the  young  master, 
and  set  him  to  thinking  if  it  was  altogether 
deserved. 

Three  months  had  passed  from  the  time 
of  their  first  meeting,  and  the  master  was 
sitting  late  one  evening  over  the  moral  and 
sententious  copies,  when  there  came  a  tap  at 
the  door,  and  again  Mliss  stood  before  him. 
She  was  neatly  clad  and  <clean-faced,  and 
there  was  nothing,  perhaps,  but  the  long 
black  hair  and  bright  black  eyes  to  remind 
him  of  his  former  apparition.  "  Are  you 
busy?"  she  asked.  "Can  you  come  with 
me  ?  "  —  and  on  his  signifying  his  readiness, 
in  her  old  wilful  way  she  said,  "  Come,  then, 
quick!" 

They  passed  out  of  the  door  together 
and  into  the  dark  road.  As  they  entered 
the  town  the  master  asked  her  whither  she 
was  going.  She  replied,  "To  see  my  fa 
ther." 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  heard  her  call 
him  by  that  filial  title,  or  indeed  anything 
more  than  "  Old  Smith  "  or  the  "  Old  man." 
It  was  the  first  time  in  three  months  that 
she  had  spoken  of  him  at  all,  and  the  mas 
ter  knew  she  had  kept  resolutely  aloof  from 
him  since  her  great  change.  Satisfied  from 


42  ML  1 88. 

her   manner   that  it   was  fruitless   to  ques 
tion  her  purpose,  he  passively  followed.     In 
out-of-the-way   places,   low    groggeries,   res 
taurants,  and  saloons  ;  in  gambling-hells  and 
dance-houses,  the  master,  preceded  by  Mliss, 
came  and  went.     In  the  reeking  smoke  and 
blasphemous  outcries  of  low  dens,  the  child, 
holding  the  master's  hand,  stood  and  anx 
iously  gazed,  seemingly  unconscious  of  all  in 
the   one    absorbing   nature   of   her  pursuit. 
Some   of   the   revellers,   recognizing   Mliss, 
called  to  the  child  to   sing  and  dance  for 
them,  and  would  have  forced  liquor  upon  her 
but  for  the  interference  of  the  master.     Oth 
ers,  recognizing  him,  mutely  made  way  for 
them  to  pass.    So  an  hour  slipped  by.    Then 
the  child  whispered  in  his  ear  that  there  was 
a  cabin  on  the  other  side  of  the  creek  crossed 
by  the  long  flume,  where  she  thought  he  still 
might  be.     Thither  they  crossed,  —  a  toil 
some  half-hour's  walk,  —  but  in  vain.    They 
were   returning   by  the  ditch  at   the  abut 
ment  of  the  flume,  gazing  at  the  lights  of  the 
town  on  the  opposite  bank,  when  suddenly, 
sharply,  a  quick  report  rang  out  on  the  clear 
night  air.     The  echoes  caught  it,  and  carried 
it  round  and  round  Eed  Mountain,  and  set 
the  dogs  to  barking  all  along  the  streams. 


MLISS.  43 

Lights  seemed  to  dance  and  move  quickly 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  for  a  few  mo 
ments,  the  stream  rippled  quite  audibly  be 
side  them,  a  few  stones  loosened  themselves 
from  the  hillside  and  splashed  into  the 
stream,  a  heavy  wind  seemed  to  surge  the 
branches  of  the  funereal  pines,  and  then  the 
silence  seemed  to  fall  thicker,  heavier,  and 
deadlier.  The  master  turried  towards  Mliss 
with  an  unconscious  gesture  of  protection, 
but  the  child  had  gone.  Oppressed  by  a 
strange  fear,  he  ran  quickly  down  the  trail 
to  the  river's  bed,  and,  jumping  from  boulder 
to  boulder,  reached  the  base  of  Red  Moun 
tain  and  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  Mid 
way  of  the  crossing  he  looked  up  and  held 
his  breath  in  awe.  For  high  above  him  on 
the  narrow  flume  he  saw  the  fluttering  little 
figure  of  his  late  companion  crossing  swiftly 
in  the  darkness. 

He  climbed  the  bank,  and,  guided  by  a 
few  lights  moving  about  a  central  point  on 
the  mountain,  soon  found  himself  breathless 
among  a  crowd  of  awe-stricken  and  sorrow 
ful  men. 

Out  from  among  them  the  child  appeared, 
and,  taking  the  master's  hand,  led  him  si 
lently  before  what  seemed  a  ragged  hole  in 


44  MUSS. 

the  mountain.  Her  face  was  quite  white, 
but  her  excited  manner  gone,  and  her  look 
that  of  one  to  whom  some  long-expected 
event  had  at  last  happened,  —  an  expression 
that  to  the  master  in  his  bewilderment 
seemed  almost  like  relief.  The  walls  of  the 
cavern  were  partly  propped  by  decaying 
timbers.  The  child  pointed  to  what  ap 
peared  to  be  some  ragged,  cast-off  clothes 
left  in  the  hole  by  the  late  occupant.  The 
master  approached  nearer  with  his  flaming 
dip,  and  bent  over  them.  It  was  Smith, 
already  cold,  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand  and  a 
bullet  in  his  heart,  lying  beside  his  empty 
pocket. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  opinion  which  McSnagley  expressed 
in  reference  to  a  "  change  of  heart "  supposed 
to  be  experienced  by  Mliss  was  more  forci 
bly  described  in  the  gulches  and  tunnels. 
It  was  thought  there  that  Mliss  had  "  struck 
a  good  lead."  So  when  there  was  a  new 
grave  added  to  the  little  enclosure,  and  at 
the  expense  of  the  master  a  little  board  and 
inscription  put  above  it,  the  Red  Mountain 
Banner  came  out  quite  handsomely,  and  did 


MLISS.  45 

the  fair  thing  to  the  memory  of  one  of  "  our 
oldest  pioneers,"  alluding  gracefully  to  that 
"bane  of  noble  intellects,"  and  otherwise 
genteelly  shelving  our  dear  brother  with  the 
past.  "  He  leaves  an  only  child  to  mourn 
his  loss,"  says  the  Banner,  "  who  is  now  an 
exemplary  scholar,  thanks  to  the  efforts  of 
the  Rev.  Mr.  McSnagley."  The  Eev.  Me* 
Snagley,  in  fact,  made  a*  strong  point  of 
Mliss's  conversion,  and,  indirectly  attribut 
ing  to  the  unfortunate  child  the  suicide  of 
her  father,  made  affecting  allusions  in  Sun 
day-school  to  the  beneficial  effects  of  the 
"  silent  tomb,"  and  in  this  cheerful  contem 
plation  drove  most  of  the  children  into  speech 
less  horror,  and  caused  the  pink-and-white 
scions  of  the  first  families  to  howl  dismally 
and  refuse  to  be  comforted. 

The  long  dry  summer  came.  As  each 
fierce  day  burned  itself  out  in  little  whiffs  of 
pearl-gray  smoke  on  the  mountain  summits, 
and  the  upspringing  breeze  scattered  its  red 
embers  over  the  landscape,  the  green  wave 
which  in  early  spring  upheaved  above  Smith's 
grave  grew  sere  and  dry  and  hard.  In  those 
days  the  master,  strolling  in  the  little  church 
yard  of  a  Sabbath  afternoon,  was  sometimes 
surprised  to  find  a  few  wild-flowers  plucked 


£6  MLISS. 

from  the  damp  pine-forests  scattered  there, 
and  oftener  rude  wreaths  hung  upon  the  lit 
tle  pine  cross.  Most  of  these  wreaths  were 
formed  of  a  sweet-scented  grass,  which  the 
children  loved  to  keep  in  their  desks,  inter- 
twined  with  the  plumes  of  the  buckeye,  the 
syringa,  and  the  wood-anemone ;  and  here 
and  there  the  master  noticed  the  dark  blue 
cowl  of  the  monk's-hood,  or  deadly  aconite. 
There  was  something  in  the  odd  association 
of  this  noxious  plant  with  these  memorials 
which  occasioned  a  painful  sensation  to  the 
master  deeper  than  his  aBsthetic  sense.  One 
day,  during  a  long  walk,  in  crossing  a  wooded 
ridge  he  came  upon  Mliss  in  the  heart  of 
the  forest,  perched  upon  a  prostrate  pine,  on 
a  fantastic  throne  formed  by  the  hanging 
plumes  of  lifeless  branches,  her  lap  full  of 
grasses  and  pine-burrs,  and  crooning  to  her 
self  one  of  the  negro  melodies  of  her  younger 
life.  Recognizing  him  at  a  distance,  she 
made  room  for  him  on  her  elevated  throne, 
and,  with  a  grave  assumption  of  hospitality 
and  patronage  that  would  have  been  ridicu 
lous  had  it  not  been  so  terribly  earnest,  she 
fed  him  with  pine-nuts  and  crab-apples.  The 
master  took  that  opportunity  to  point  out  to 
her  the  noxious  and  deadly  qualities  of  the 


MLISS.  47 

monk's-hood,  whose  dark  blossoms  he  saw  in 
her  lap,  and  extorted  from  her  a  promise  not 
to  meddle  with  it  as  long  as  she  remained 
his  pupil.  This  done,  —  as  the  master  had 
tested  her  integrity  before,  —  he  rested  satis 
fied,  and  the  strange  feeling  which  had  over 
come  him  on  seeing  them  died  away. 

Of  the  homes  that  were  offered  Mliss  when 
her  conversion  became  known,  the  master  pre 
ferred  that  of  Mrs.  Morpher,  a  womanly  and 
kind-hearted  specimen  of  Southwestern  efflo 
rescence,  known  in  her  maidenhood  as  the 
"  Per-rairie  Rose."  Being  one  of  those  who 
contend  resolutely  against  their  own  natures, 
Mrs.  Morpher,  by  a  long  series  of  self-sacri 
fices  and  struggles,  had  at  last  subjugated 
her  naturally  careless  disposition  to  princi 
ples  of  "order,"  which  she  considered,  in 
common  with  Mr.  Pope,  as  "  Heaven's  first 
law."  But  she  could  not  entirely  govern  the 
orbits  of  her  satellites,  however  regular  her 
own  movements,  and  even  her  own  "  Jeemes  " 
sometimes  collided  with  her.  Again  her  old 
nature  asserted  itself  in  her  children.  L<y- 
curgus  dipped  into  the  cupboard  "between 
meals,"  and  Aristides  came  home  from  school 
without  shoes,  leaving  those  important  arti 
cles  on  the  threshold,  for  the  delight  of  a 


48  MLISS. 

barefooted  walk  down  the  ditches.  Octavia 
and  Cassandra  were  "  keerless "  of  their 
clothes.  So  with  but  one  exception,  how 
ever  much  the  "  Prairie  Rose  "  might  have 
trimmed  and  pruned  and  trained  her  own 
matured  luxuriance,  the  little  shoots  came 
up  defiantly  wild  and  straggling.  That  one 
exception  was  Clytemnestra  Morpher,  aged 
fifteen.  She  was  the  realization  of  her 
mother's  immaculate  conception,  —  neat,  or 
derly,  and  dull. 

It  was  an  amiable  weakness  of  Mrs.  Mor 
pher  to  imagine  that  "  Clytie  "  was  a  conso 
lation  and  model  for  Mliss.  Following  this 
fallacy,  Mrs.  Morpher  threw  Clytie  at  the 
head  of  Mliss  when  she  was  "  bad,"  and  set 
her  up  before  the  child  for  adoration  in  her 
penitential  moments.  It  was  not,  therefore, 
surprising  to  the  master  to  hear  that  Clytie 
was  coming  to  school,  obviously  as  a  favor 
to  the  master  and  as  an  example  for  Mliss 
and  others.  For  "  Clytie  "  was  quite  a  young 
lady.  Inheriting  her  mother's  physical  pe 
culiarities,  and  in  obedience  to  the  climatic 
laws  of  the  Red  Mountain  region,  she  was 
an  early  bloomer.  The  youth  of  Smith's 
Pocket,  to  whom  this  kind  of  flower  was  rare, 
sighed  for  her  in  April  and  languished  in 


MLISS.  49 

May.  Enamored  swains  haunted  the  school- 
house  at  the  hour  of  dismissal.  A  few  were 
jealous  of  the  master. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  latter  circumstance 
that  opened  the  master's  eyes  to  another. 
He  could  not  help  noticing  that  Clytie  was 
romantic ;  that  in  school  she  required  a  great 
deal  of  attention ;  that  her  pens  were  uni 
formly  bad  and  wanted  fixing ;  that  she  usu 
ally  accompanied  the  request  with  a  certain 
expectation  in  her  eye  that  was  somewhat 
disproportionate  to  the  quality  of  service 
she  verbally  required;  that  she  sometimes 
allowed  the  curves  of  a  round,  plump  white 
arm  to  rest  on  his  when  he  was  writing 
her  copies ;  that  she  always  blushed  and 
flung  back  her  blonde  curls  when  she  did 
so.  I  don't  remember  whether  I  have  stated 
that  the  master  was  a  young  man,  —  it  's  of 
little  consequence,  however;  he  had  been 
severely  educated  in  the  school  in  which 
Clytie  was  taking  her  first  lesson,  and,  on  the 
whole,  withstood  the  flexible  curves  and  fac 
titious  glance  like  the  fine  young  Spartan 
that  he  was.  Perhaps  an  insufficient  qual 
ity  of  food  may  have  tended  to  this  asceti 
cism.  He  generally  avoided  Clytie  ;  but  one 
evening,  when  she  returned  to  the  school- 


50  MLISS. 

house  after  something  she  had  forgotten, 
and  did  not  find  it  until  the  master  walked 
home  with  her,  I  hear  that  he  endeavored 
to  make  himself  particularly  agreeable, — 
partly  from  the  fact,  I  imagine,  that  his 
conduct  was  adding  gall  and  bitterness  to 
the  already  overcharged  hearts  of  Clytemnes- 
tra's  admirers. 

The  morning  after  this  affecting  episode 
Mliss  did  not  come  to  school.  Noon  came, 
but  not  Mliss.  Questioning  Clytie  on  the 
subject,  it  appeared  that  they  had  left  the 
school  together,  but  the  wilful  Mliss  had 
taken  another  road.  The  afternoon  brought 
her  not.  In  the  evening  he  called  on  Mrs. 
Morpher,  whose  motherly  heart  was  really 
alarmed.  Mr.  Morpher  had  spent  all  day 
in  search  of  her,  without  discovering  a  trace 
that  might  lead  to  her  discovery.  Aristides 
was  summoned  as  a  probable  accomplice,  but 
that  equitable  infant  succeeded  in  impress 
ing  the  household  with  his  innocence.  Mrs. 
Morpher  entertained  a  vivid  impression  that 
the  child  would  yet  be  found  drowned  in  a 
ditch,  or,  what  was  almost  as  terrible,  mud^ 
died  and  soiled  beyond  the  redemption  of 
soap  and  water.  Sick  at  heart,  the  master 
returned  to  the  schoolhouse.  As  he  lit  his 


MLISS.  51 

lamp  and  seated  himself  at  his  desk,  he 
found  a  note  lying  before  him  addressed  to 
himself,  in  Mliss's  handwriting.  It  seemed 
to  be  written  on  a  leaf  torn  from  some  old 
memorandum  -  book,  and,  to  prevent  sacri 
legious  trifling,  had  been  sealed  with  six 
broken  wafers.  Opening  it  almost  tender 
ly,  the  master  read  as  follows  :  — 

RESPECTED  SIB,  —  When  you  read  this,  I  am 
run  away.  Never  to  come  back.  Never,  NEVER, 
NEVER.  You  can  give  my  beeds  to  Mary  Jen 
nings,  and  my  Amerika's  PrMe  [a  highly  colored 
lithograph  from  a  tobacco-box]  to  Sally  Flanders. 
But  don't  you  give  anything  to  Clytie  Morpher. 
Don't  you  dare  to.  Do  you  know  what  my  opin 
ion  is  of  her :  it  is  this,  she  is  perf ekly  disgustin. 
That  is  all  and  no  more  at  present  from 
Yours  respectfully, 

MELISSA  SMITH. 

The  master  sat  pondering  on  this  strange 
epistle  till  the  moon  lifted  its  bright  face 
above  the  distant  hills,  and  illuminated  the 
trail  that  led  to  the  schoolhouse,  beaten 
quite  hard  with  the  coming  and  going  of 
little  feet.  Then,  more  satisfied  in  mind, 
he  tore  the  missive  into  fragments  and  scat 
tered  them  along  the  road. 


52  MLISS. 

At  sunrise  the  next  morning  lie  was  pick 
ing  his  way  through  the  palm-like  fern  and 
thick  underbrush  of  the  pine  forest,  start 
ing  the  hare  from  its  form,  and  awakening 
a  querulous  protest  from  a  few  dissipated 
crows,  who  had  evidently  been  making  a 
night  of  it,  and  so  came  to  the  wooded 
ridge  where  he  had  once  found  Mliss.  There 
he  found  the  prostrate  pine  and  tasselled 
branches,  but  the  throne  was  vacant.  As 
he  drew  nearer,  what  might  have  been  some 
frightened  animal  started  through  the  crack 
ling  limbs.  It  ran  up  the  tossed  arms  of 
the  fallen  monarch,  and  sheltered  itself  in 
some  friendly  foliage.  The  master,  reach 
ing  the  old  seat,  found  the  nest  still  warm ; 
looking  up  in  the  intertwining  branches,  he 
met  the  black  eyes  of  the  errant  Mliss.  They 
gazed  at  each  other  without  speaking.  She 
was  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  asked  curtly. 

The  master  had  decided  on  a  course  of 
action.  "  I  want  some  crab-apples,"  he  said 
humbly. 

"  Sha'  n't  have  'em !  go  away.  Why  don't 
you  get  'em  of  Clytemnerestera?"  (It  seemed 
to  be  a  relief  to  Mliss  to  express  her  con- 
tempt  in  additional  syllables  to  that  classical 


MLISS.  53 

young  woman's  already  long-drawn  title.) 
"  Oh,  you  wicked  thing !  " 

"  I  am  hungry,  Lissy.  I  have  eaten 
nothing  since  dinner  yesterday.  I  am  fam 
ished  !  "  and  the  young  man  in  a  state  of  re 
markable  exhaustion  leaned  against  the  tree. 

Melissa's  heart  was  touched.  In  the  bit 
ter  days  of  her  gypsy  life^  she  had  known 
the  sensation  he  so  artfully  simulated.  Over 
come  by  his  heart-broken  tone,  but  not  en 
tirely  divested  of  suspicion,  she  said,  — 

"  Dig  under  the  tree  near  the  roots,  and 
you  '11  find  lots ;  but  mind  you  don't  tell !  " 
(for  Mliss  had  her  hoards  as  well  as  the  rata 
and  squirrels.) 

But  the  master,  of  course,  was  unable  to 
find  them;  the  effects  of  hunger  probably 
blinding  his  senses.  Mliss  grew  uneasy.  At 
length  she  peered  at  him  through  the  leaves 
in  an  elfish  way,  and  questioned,  — 

"If  I  come  down  and  give  you  some, 
you  '11  promise  you  won't  touch  me  ?  " 

The  master  promised. 

"  Hope  you  '11  die  if  you  do?  " 

The  master  accepted  instant  dissolution 
as  a  forfeit.  Mliss  slid  down  the  tree.  For 
a  few  moments  nothing  transpired  but  the 
munching  of  the  pine-nuts.  "  Do  you  feel 


54  MLISS. 

better  ? "  she  asked,  with  some  solicitude. 
The  master  confessed  to  a  recuperated  feel 
ing,  and  then  gravely  thanking  her  proceeded 
to  retrace  his  steps.  As  he  expected,  he  had 
not  gone  far  before  she  called  him.  He 
turned.  She  was  standing  there  quite  white, 
with  tears  in  her  widely  opened  orbs.  The 
master  felt  that  the  right  moment  had  come. 
Going  up  to  her,  he  took  both  her  hands, 
and,  looking  in  her  tearful  eyes,  said  gravely, 
"  Lissy,  do  you  remember  the  first  evening 
you  came  to  see  me  ?  " 

Lissy  remembered. 

"  You  asked  me  if  you  might  come  to 
school,  for  you  wanted  to  learn  something 
and  be  better,  and  I  said  "  — 

"  Come,"  responded  the  child,  promptly. 

"  What  would  you  say  if  the  master  now 
came  to  you  and  said  that  he  was  lonely 
without  his  little  scholar,  and  that  he  wanted 
her  to  come  and  teach  him  to  be  better  ?  " 

The  child  hung  her  head  for  a  few  mo 
ments  in  silence.  The  master  waited  pa 
tiently.  Tempted  by  the  quiet,  a  hare  ran 
close  to  the  couple,  and,  raising  her  bright 
eyes  and  velvet  forepaws,  sat  and  gazed  at 
them.  A  squirrel  ran  half-way  down  the 
furrowed  bark  of  the  fallen  tree,  and  there 
stopped. 


MUSS.  55 

"  We  are  waiting,  Lissy,"  said  the  master, 
in  a  whisper,  and  the  child  smiled.  Stirred 
by  a  passing  breeze,  the  tree-tops  rocked, 
and  a  long  pencil  of  light  stole  through  their 
interlaced  boughs  full  on  the  doubting  face 
and  irresolute  little  figure.  Suddenly  she 
took  the  master's  hand  in  her  quick  way. 
What  she  said  was  scarcely  audible,  but  the 
master,  putting  the  black  hair  back  from  her 
forehead,  kissed  her ;  and  so,  hand  in  hand, 
they  passed  out  of  the  damp  aisles  and  forest 
odors  into  the  open  sunlit  road. 


CHAPTER   III. 


SOMEWHAT  less  spiteful  in  her  intercourse 
with  other  scholars,  Mliss  still  retained  an 
offensive  attitude  in  regard  to  Clytemnestra. 
Perhaps  the  jealous  element  was  not  entirely 
lulled  in  her  passionate  little  breast.  Per 
haps  it  was  only  that  the  round  curves  and 
plump  outline  offered  more  extended  pinch 
ing  surface.  But  while  such  ebullitions  were 
under  the  master's  control,  her  enmity  occa 
sionally  took  a  new  and  irrepressible  form. 

The  master,  in  his  first  estimate  of  the 
child's  character,  could  not  conceive  that  she 


56  MLISS. 

had  ever  possessed  a  doll.  But  the  master, 
like  many  other  professed  readers  of  charac 
ter,  was  safer  in  d  posteriori  than  a  priori 
reasoning.  Mliss  had  a  doll,  but  then  it  was 
emphatically  Mliss's  doll,  —  a  smaller  copy 
of  herself.  Its  unhappy  existence  had  been 
a  secret  discovered  accidentally  by  Mrs.  Mor- 
pher.  It  had  been  the  old-time  companion  of 
Mliss's  wanderings,  and  bore  evident  marks 
of  suffering.  Its  original  complexion  was 
long  since  washed  away  by  the  weather  and 
anointed  by  the  slime  of  ditches.  It  looked 
very  much  as  Mliss  had  in  days  past.  Its 
one  gown  of  faded  stuff  was  dirty  and  rag 
ged  as  hers  had  been.  Mliss  had  never 
been  known  to  apply  to  it  any  childish  term 
of  endearment.  She  never  exhibited  it  in 
the  presence  of  other  children.  It  was  put 
severely  to  bed  in  a  hollow  tree  near  the 
schoolhouse,  and  only  allowed  exercise  dur 
ing  Mliss's  rambles.  Fulfilling  a  stern  duty 
to  her  doll,  as  she  would  to  herself,  it  knew 
no  luxuries. 

Now  Mrs.  Morpher,  obeying  a  commend 
able  impulse,  bought  another  doll  and  gave 
it  to  Mliss.  The  child  received  it  gravely 
and  curiously.  The  master,  on  looking  at  it 
one  day  fancied  he  saw  a  slight  resemblance 


MLISS.  57 

in  its  round  red  cheeks  and  mild  blue  eyes 
to  Clytemnestra.  It  became  evident  before 
long  that  Mliss  had  also  noticed  the  same 
resemblance.  Accordingly  she  hammered  its 
waxen  head  on  the  rocks  when  she  was 
alone,  and  sometimes  dragged  it  with  a  string 
round  its  neck  to  and  from  school.  At  other 
times,  setting  it  up  on  her  desk,  she  made 
a  pin-cushion  of  its  patient  and  inoffensive 
body.  Whether  this  was  done  in  revenge  of 
what  she  considered  a  second  figurative  ob 
trusion  of  Clytie's  excellences  upon  her,  or 
whether  she  had  an  intuitive  appreciation  of 
the  rites  of  certain  other  heathens,  and,  in 
dulging  in  that  "fetish"  ceremony,  imagined 
that  the  original  of  her  wax  model  would 
pine  away  and  finally  die,  is  a  metaphysical 
question  I  shall  not  now  consider. 

In  spite  of  these  moral  vagaries,  the  mas 
ter  could  not  help  noticing  in  her  different 
tasks  the  working  of  a  quick,  restless,  and 
vigorous  perception.  She  knew  neither  the 
hesitancy  nor  the  doubts  of  childhood.  Her 
answers  in  class  were  always  slightly  dashed 
with  audacity.  Of  course  she  was  not  in 
fallible.  But  her  courage  and  daring  in 
passing  beyond  her  own  depth  and  that  of 
the  floundering  little  swimmers  around  her, 


58  MUSS. 

in  their  minds  outweighed  all  errors  of  judg 
ment.  Children  are  not  better  than  grown 
people  in  this  respect,  I  fancy ;  and  whenever 
the  little  red  hand  flashed  above  her  desk, 
there  was  a  wondering  silence,  and  even  the 
master  was  sometimes  oppressed  with  a  doubt 
of  his  own  experience  and  judgment. 

Nevertheless,  certain  attributes  which  at 
first  amused  and  entertained  his  fancy  began 
to  afflict  him  with  grave  doubts.  He  could 
not  but  see  that  Mliss  was  revengeful,  irrev 
erent,  and  wilful.  That  there  was  but  one 
better  quality  which  pertained  to  her  semi- 
savage  disposition,  —  the  faculty  of  physical 
fortitude  and  self  -  sacrifice ;  and  another, 
though  not  always  an  attribute  of  the  noble 
savage,  —  trnth.  Mlics  was  both  fearless 
and  sincere  ;  perhaps  in  such  a  character  the 
adjectives  were  synonymous. 

The  master  had  been  doing  some  hard 
thinking  on  this  subject,  and  had  arrived  at 
that  conclusion  quite  common  to  all  who 
think  sincerely,  that  he  was  generally  the 
slave  of  his  own  prejudices,  when  he  deter 
mined  to  call  on  the  Rev.  McSnagley  for 
advice.  This  decision  was  somewhat  humil 
iating  to  his  pride,  as  he  and  McSnagley 
were  not  friends.  But  he  thought  of  Mliss, 


MLISS.  59 

and  the  evening  of  their  first  meeting ;  and 
perhaps  with  a  pardonable  superstition  that 
it  was  not  chance  alone  that  had  guided  her 
wilful  feet  to  the  schoolhouse,  and  perhaps 
with  a  complacent  consciousness  of  the  rare 
magnanimity  of  the  act,  he  choked  back  his 
dislike  and  went  to  McSnagley. 

The  reverend  gentleman  was  glad  to  see 
him.  Moreover,  he  observed  that  the  mas 
ter  was  looking  "peartish,"  and  hoped  he 
had  got  over  the  "  neuralgy  "  and  "  rheuma- 
tiz."  He  himself  had  been  troubled  with 
a  dumb  "ager"  since  last  Conference.  But 
he  had  learned  to  "  rastle  and  pray." 

Pausing  a  moment  to  enable  the  master 
to  write  his  certain  method  of  curing  the 
dumb  "  ager  "  upon  the  book  and  volume  of 
his  brain,  Mr.  McSnagley  proceeded  to  in 
quire  after  Sister  Morpher.  "She  is  an 
adornment  to  Christianity,  and  has  a  likely 
growin'  young  family,"  added  Mr.  McSnag 
ley  ;  "  and  there 's  that  mannerly  young  gal, 
—  so  well  behaved,  —  Miss  Clytie."  In  fact, 
Clyde's  perfections  seemed  to  affect  him  to 
such  an  extent  that  he  dwelt  for  several 
minutes  upon  them.  The  master  was  doubly 
embarrassed.  In  the  first  place,  there  was 
an  enforced  contrast  with  poor  Mliss  in  all 


60  MLISS, 

this  praise  of  Clytie.  Secondly,  there  was 
something  unpleasantly  confidential  in  his 
tone  of  speaking  of  Mrs.  Morpher's  earliest 
born.  So  that  the  master,  after  a  few  futile 
efforts  to  say  something  natural,  found  it 
convenient  to  recall  another  engagement,  and 
left  without  asking  the  information  required, 
but  in  his  after  reflections  somewhat  unjustly 
giving  the  Rev.  Mr.  McSnagley  the  full 
benefit  of  having  refused  it. 

Perhaps  this  rebuff  placed  the  master  and 
pupil  once  more  in  the  close  communion  of 
old.  The  child  seemed  to  notice  the  change 
in  the  master's  manner,  which  had  of  late 
been  constrained,  and  in  one  of  their  long 
post-prandial  walks  she  stopped  suddenly, 
and,  mounting  a  stump,  looked  full  in  his 
face  with  big,  searching  eyes.  "You  ain't 
mad  ?  "  said  she,  with  an  interrogative  shake 
of  the  black  braids.  "No."  "Nor  both 
ered?"  "No."  "Nor  hungry?"  (Hunger 
was  to  Mliss  a  sickness  that  might  attack  a 
person  at  any  moment.)  "  No."  "  Nor 
thinking  of  her?"  "Of  whom,  Lissy?" 
"  That  white  girl."  (This  was  the  latest 
epithet  invented  by  Mliss,  who  was  a  very 
dark  brunette,  to  express  Clytemnestra.) 
"  No. "  "  Upon  your  word  ?  "  (A  substitute 


MLI8S.  61 

for  "Hope  you'll  die?"  proposed  by  the 
master.)  "Yes."  "And  sacred  honor?" 
"  Yes."  Then  Mliss  gave  him  a  fierce  little 
kiss,  and,  hopping  down,  fluttered  off.  For 
two  or  three  days  after  that  she  conde 
scended  to  appear  more  like  other  children, 
and  be,  as  she  expressed  it,  "  good." 

Two  years  had  passed  since  the  master's 
advent  at  Smith's  Pocket,  and  as  his  salary 
was  not  large,  and  the  prospects  of  Smith's 
Pocket  eventually  becoming  the  capital  of 
the  State  not  entirely  definite,  he  contem 
plated  a  change.  He  had  informed  the 
school  trustees  privately  of  his  intentions, 
but,  educated  young  men  of  unblemished 
moral  character  being  scarce  at  that  time,  he 
consented  to  continue  his  school  term  through 
the  winter  to  early  spring.  None  else  knew 
of  his  intention  except  his  one  friend,  a  Dr. 
Duchesne,  a  young  Creole  physician,  known 
to  the  people  of  Wingdam  as  "  Duchesny." 
He  never  mentioned  it  to  Mrs.  Morpher, 
Clytie,  or  any  of  his  scholars.  His  reticence 
was  partly  the  result  of  a  constitutional  in 
disposition  to  fuss,  partly  a  desire  to  be 
spared  the  questions  and  surmises  of  vulgar 
curiosity,  and  partly  that  he  never  really 
believed  he  was  going  to  do  anything  before 
It  was  done. 


62  MLISS. 

He  did  not  like  to  think  of  Mliss.  It  was 
a  selfish  instinct,  perhaps,  which  made  him 
try  to  fancy  his  feeling  for  the  child  was 
foolish,  romantic,  and  unpractical.  He  even 
tried  to  imagine  that  she  would  do  better 
under  the  control  of  an  older  and  sterner 
teacher.  Then  she  was  nearly  eleven,  and 
in  a  few  years,  by  the  rules  of  Red  Moun 
tain,  would  be  a  woman.  He  had  done  his 
duty.  After  Smith's  death  he  addressed 
letters  to  Smith's  relatives,  and  received  one 
answer  from  a  sister  of  Melissa's  mother. 
Thanking  the  master,  she  stated  her  inten 
tion  of  leaving  the  Atlantic  States  for  Cali 
fornia  with  her  husband  in  a  few  months. 
This  was  a  slight  superstructure  for  the  airy 
castle  which  the  master  pictured  for  Mliss's 
home,  but  it  was  easy  to  fancy  that  some 
loving,  sympathetic  woman,  with  the  claims 
of  kindred,  might  better  guide  her  wayward 
nature.  Yet,  when  the  master  had  read  the 
letter,  Mliss  listened  to  it  carelessly,  received 
it  submissively,  and  afterwards  cut  figures 
out  of  it  with  her  scissors,  supposed  to  repre 
sent  Clytemnestra,  labelled  "  the  white  girl," 
to  prevent  mistakes,  and  impaled  them  upon 
the  outer  walls  of  the  schoolhouse. 

When  the  summer  was  about  spent,  and 


MLISS.  63 

the  last  harvest  had  been  gathered  in  the 
valleys,  the  master  bethought  him  of  gather 
ing  in  a  few  ripened  shoots  of  the  young 
idea,  and  of  .having  his  harvest-home,  or  ex 
amination.  So  the  savans  and  professionals 
of  Smith's  Pocket  were  gathered  to  witness 
that  time-honored  custom  of  placing  timid 
children  in  a  constrained  position,  and  bully 
ing  them  as  in  a  witness-box.  As  usual  in 
such  cases,  the  most  audacious  and  self-pos 
sessed  were  the  lucky  recipients  of  the  hon 
ors.  The  reader  will  imagine  that  in  the 
present  instance  Mliss  and  Clytie  were  pre 
eminent,  and  divided  public  attention :  Mliss 
with  her  clearness  of  material  perception  and 
self-reliance,  Clytie  with  her  placid  self-es 
teem  and  saint-like  correctness  of  deport 
ment.  The  other  little  ones  were  timid  and 
blundering.  Mliss's  readiness  and  brillian 
cy,  of  course,  captivated  the  greatest  number 
and  provoked  the  greatest  applause.  Mliss's 
antecedents  had  unconsciously  awakened  the 
strongest  sympathies  of  a  class  whose  ath 
letic  forms  were  ranged  against  the  walls,  or 
whose  handsome  bearded  faces  looked  in  at 
the  windows.  But  Mliss's  popularity  was 
overthrown  by  an  unexpected  circumstance. 
McSnagley  had  invited  himself,  and  had 


64  ML1SS. 

been  going  through  the  pleasing  entertain 
ment  of  frightening  the  more  timid  pupils 
by  the  vaguest  and  most  ambiguous  questions 
delivered  in  an  impressive  funereal  tone ; 
and  Mliss  had  soared  into  astronomy,  and 
was  tracking  the  course  of  our  spotted  ball 
through  space,  and  keeping  time  with  the 
music  of  the  spheres,  and  defining  the  teth 
ered  orbits  of  the  planets,  when  McSnagley 
impressively  arose.  "  Meelissy !  ye  were 
speaking  of  the  revolutions  of  this  yere  yearth 
and  the  movQ-ments  of  the  sun,  and  I  think 
ye  said  it  had  been  a  doing  of  it  since  the 
creashun,  eh  ? "  Mliss  nodded  a  scornful 
affirmative.  "Well,  war  that  the  truth?" 
said  McSnagley,  folding  his  arms.  "Yes," 
said  Mliss,  shutting  up  her  little  red  lips 
tightly.  The  handsome  outlines  at  the  win 
dows  peered  further  in  the  schoolroom,  and  a 
saintly  Raphael  face,  with  blonde  beard  and 
soft  blue  eyes,  belonging  to  the  biggest  scamp 
in  the  diggings,  turned  toward  the  child  and 
whispered,  "  Stick  to  it,  Mliss !  "  The  rev 
erend  gentleman  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and 
cast  a  compassionate  glance  at  the  master, 
then  at  the  children,  and  then  rested  his  look 
on  Clytie.  That  young  woman  softly  ele 
vated  her  round,  white  arm.  Its  seductive 


MLJSS.  65 

curves  were  enhanced  by  a  gorgeous  and 
massive  specimen  bracelet,  the  gift  of  one  of 
her  humblest  worshippers,  worn  in  honor  of 
the  occasion.  There  was  a  momentary  si 
lence.  Clyde's  round  cheeks  were  very  pink 
and  soft.  Clytie's  big  eyes  were  very  bright 
and  blue.  Clytie's  low-necked  white  book- 
muslin  rested  softly  on  Clytie's  white,  plump 
shoulders.  Clytie  looked  af  the  master,  and 
the  master  nodded.  Then  Clytie  spoke 
softly :  — 

"  Joshua  commanded  the  sun  to  stand  still, 
and  it  obeyed  him ! "  There  was  a  low  hum 
of  applause  in  the  schoolroom,  a  triumphant 
expression  on  McSnagley's  face,  a  grave 
shadow  on  the  master's,  and  a  comical  look 
of  disappointment  reflected  from  the  win 
dows.  Mliss  skimmed  rapidly  over  her  As 
tronomy,  and  then  shut  the  book  with  a 
loud  snap.  A  groan  burst  from  McSnag- 
ley,  an  expression  of  astonishment  from  the 
schoolroom,  a  yell  from  the  windows,  as 
Mliss  brought  her  red  fist  down  on  the  desk, 
with  the  emphatic  declaration,  — 

"  It 's  a  d— n  lie.     I  don't  believe  it !  " 


66  MLISS 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  long  wet  season  had  drawn  near  its 
close.  Signs  of  spring  were  visible  in  the 
swelling  buds  and  rushing  torrents.  The 
pine  forests  exhaled  the  fresher  spicery. 
The  azaleas  were  already  budding,  the  ceano- 
thus  getting  ready  its  lilac  livery  for  spring. 
On  the  green  upland  which  climbed  Ked 
Mountain  at  its  southern  aspect  the  long 
spike  of  the  monk's-hood  shot  up  from  its 
broad-leaved  stool,  and  once  more  shook  its 
dark-blue  bells.  Again  the  billow  above 
Smith's  grave  was  soft  and  green,  its  crest 
just  tossed  with  the  foam  of  daisies  and  but 
tercups.  The  little  graveyard  had  gathered 
a  few  new  dwellers  in  the  past  year,  and  the 
mounds  were  placed  two  by  two  by  the  little 
paling  until  they  reached  Smith's  grave,  and 
there  there  was  but  one.  General  supersti 
tion  had  shunned  it,  and  the  plot  beside 
Smith  was  vacant. 

There  had  been  several  placards  posted 
about  the  town,  intimating  that,  at  a  certain 
period,  a  celebrated  dramatic  company  would 
perform,  for  a  few  days,  a  series  of  "  side 
splitting  "  and  "  screaming "  farces ;  that, 


MLISS.  67 

alternating  pleasantly  with  this,  there  would 
be  some  melodrama  and  a  grand  divertise- 
ment,  which  would  include  singing,  dancing, 
etc.  These  announcements  occasioned  a 
great  fluttering  among  the  little  folk,  and 
were  the  theme  of  much  excitement  and 
great  speculation  among  the  master's  schol 
ars.  The  master  had  promised  Mliss,  to 
whom  this  sort  of  thing  was  sacred  and  rare, 
that  she  should  go,  and  on  that  momentous 
evening  the  master  and  Mliss  "assisted." 

The  performance  was  the  prevalent  style 
of  heavy  mediocrity ;  the  melodrama  was 
not  bad  enough  to  laugh  at  nor  good  enough 
to  excite.  But  the  master,  turning  wearily 
to  the  child,  was  astonished,  and  felt  some 
thing  like  self-accusation,  in  noticing  the 
peculiar  effect  upon  her  excitable  nature. 
The  red  blood  flushed  in  her  cheeks  at  each 
stroke  of  her  panting  little  heart.  Her 
small  passionate  lips  were  slightly  parted  to 
give  vent  to  her  hurried  breath.  Her  widely 
opened  lids  threw  up  and  arched  her  black 
eyebrows.  She  did  not  laugh  at  the  dismal 
comicalities  of  the  funny  man,  for  Mliss  sel 
dom  laughed.  Nor  was  she  discreetly  af 
fected  to  the  delicate  extremes  of  the  corner 
of  a  white  handkerchief,  as  was  the  tender- 


68  MLISS. 

hearted  "  Clytie,"  who  was  talking  with  her 
"  feller  "  and  ogling  the  master  at  the  same 
moment.  But  when  the  performance  was 
over,  and  the  green  curtain  fell  on  the  little 
stage,  Mliss  drew  a  long,  deep  breath,  and 
turned  to  the  master's  grave  face  with  a 
half-apologetic  smile  and  wearied  gesture. 
Then  she  said,  "  Now  take  me  home !  "  and 
dropped  the  lids  of  her  black  eyes,  as  if 
to  dwell  once  more  in  fancy  on  the  mimic 
stage. 

On  their  way  to  Mrs.  Morpher's  the  mas 
ter  thought  proper  to  ridicule  the  whole  per 
formance.  Now  he  should  n't  wonder  if 
Mliss  thought  that  the  young  lady  who  acted 
so  beautifully  was  really  in  earnest,  and  in 
love  with  the  gentleman  who  wore  such  fine 
clothes.  Well,  if  she  were  in  love  with  him 
it  was  a  very  unfortunate  thing !  "  Why  ?  " 
said  Mliss,  with  an  upward  sweep  of  the 
drooping  lid.  "  Oh !  well,  he  could  n't  sup 
port  his  wife  at  his  present  salary,  and  pay 
so  much  a  week  for  his  fine  clothes,  and  then 
they  would  n't  receive  as  much  wages  if  they 
were  married  as  if  they  were  merely  lovers, 
- —  that  is,"  added  the  master,  "  if  they  are 
not  already  married  to  somebody  else  ;  but 
t  think  the  husband  of  the  pretty  young 


MLISS.  69 

countess  takes  the  tickets  at  the  door,  or 
pulls  up  the  curtain,  or  snuffs  the  candles, 
or  does  something  equally  refined  and  ele 
gant.  As  to  the  young  man  with  nice 
clothes,  which  are  really  nice  now,  and  must 
cost  at  least  two  and  a  half  or  three  dollars, 
not  to  speak  of  that  mantle  of  red  drugget, 
which  I  happen  to  know  the  price  of,  for  I 
bought  some  of  it  for  my  room  once,  —  as 
to  this  young  man,  Lissy,  he  is  a  pretty 
good  fellow,  and  if  he  does  drink  occasion 
ally,  I  don't  think  people  ought  to  take  ad^ 
vantage  of  it,  and  give  him  black  eyes  and 
throw  him  in  the  mud.  Do  you?  I  am 
sure  he  might  owe  me  two  dollars  and  a  half 
a  long  time  before  I  would  throw  it  up  in 
his  face,  as  the  fellow  did  the  other  night 
at  Wingdam." 

Mliss  had  taken  his  hand  in  both  of  hers 
and  was  trying  to  look  in  his  eyes,  which  the 
young  man  kept  as  resolutely  averted.  Mliss 
had  a  faint  idea  of  irony,  indulging  herself 
sometimes  in  a  species  of  sardonic  humor, 
which  was  equally  visible  in  her  actions 
and  speech.  But  the  young  man  continued 
m  this  strain  until  they  had  reached  Mrs. 
Morpher's,  and  he  had  deposited  Mliss  in 
her  maternal  charge.  Waiving  the  invita- 


TO  MLISS. 

tion  of  Mrs.  Morpher  to  refreshment  and 
rest,  and  shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand  to 
keep  out  the  blue-eyed  Clytemnestra's  siren 
glances,  he  excused  himself,  and  went  home. 

For  two  or  three  days  after  the  advent  of 
the  dramatic  company,  Mliss  was  late  at 
school,  and  the  master's  usual  Friday  after 
noon  ramble  was  for  once  omitted,  owing  to 
the  absence  of  his  trustworthy  guide.  As 
he  was  putting  away  his  books  and  prepar 
ing  to  leave  the  schoolhouse,  a  small  voice 
piped  at  his  side,  "Please,  sir!  "  The  master 
turned,  and  there  stood  Aristides  Morpher. 

"  Well,  my  little  man,"  said  the  master, 
impatiently,  "  what  is  it  ?  —  quick !  " 

"  Please,  sir,  me  and  '  Kerg '  thinks  that 
Mliss  is  going  to  run  away  agin." 

"  What 's  that,  sir  ?  "  said  the  master,  with 
that  unjust  testiness  with  which  we  always 
receive  disagreeable  news. 

"Why,  sir,  she  don't  stay  home  any 
more,  and  'Kerg'  and  me  see  her  talking 
with  one  of  those  actor  fellers,  and  she  's 
with  him  now ;  and  please,  sir,  yesterday  she 
told  4  Kerg '  and  me  she  could  make  a  speech 
as  well  as  Miss  Cellerstina  Montmoressy,  and 
she  spouted  right  off  by  heart,"  and  the  lit 
tle  fellow  paused  in  a  collapsed  condition. 


MLISS.  71 

"  What  actor  ?  "  asked  the  master. 

"  Him  as  wears  the  shiny  hat.  And  hair. 
And  gold  pin.  And  gold  chain,"  said  the 
just  Aristides,  putting  periods  for  commas 
to  eke  out  his  breath. 

The  master  put  on  his  gloves  and  hat, 
feeling  an  unpleasant  tightness  in  his  chest 
and  thorax,  and  walked  out  in  the  road. 
Aristides  trotted  along  by  his  side,  endeavor 
ing  to  keep  pace  with  his  short  legs  to  the 
master's  strides,  when  the  master  stopped 
suddenly,  and  Aristides  bumped  up  against 
him.  "  Where  were  they  talking  ?  "  asked 
the  master,  as  if  continuing  the  conversation. 

"  At  the  Arcade,"  said  Aristides. 

When  they  reached  the  main  street  the 
master  paused.  "  Eun  down  home,"  said  he 
to  the  boy.  "  If  Mliss  is  there,  come  to  the 
Arcade  and  tell  me.  If  she  is  n't  there,  stay 
home  ;  run !  "  And  off  trotted  the  short- 
legged  Aristides. 

The  Arcade  was  just  across  the  way,  —  a 
long,  rambling  building  containing  a  bar 
room,  billiard-room,  and  restaurant.  As  the 
young  man  crossed  the  plaza  he  noticed  that 
two  or  three  of  the  passers-by  turned  and 
looked  after  him.  He  looked  at  his  clothes, 
took  out  his  handkerchief  and  wiped  his  face 


72  MLISS. 

before  he  entered  the  bar-room.  It  contained 
the  usual  number  of  loungers,  who  stared  at 
him  as  he  entered.  One  of  them  looked  at 
him  so  fixedly  and  with  such  a  strange  ex 
pression  that  the  master  stopped  and  looked 
again,  and  then  saw  it  was  only  his  own  re 
flection  in  a  large  mirror.  This  made  the 
master  think  that  perhaps  he  was  a  little 
excited,  and  so  he  took  up  a  copy  of  the  Red 
Mountain  Banner  from  one  of  the  tables, 
and  tried  to  recover  his  composure  by  read 
ing  the  column  of  advertisements. 

He  then  walked  through  the  bar-room, 
through  the  restaurant,  and  into  the  billiard- 
room.  The  child  was  not  there.  In  the  lat 
ter  apartment  a  person  was  standing  by  one 
of  the  tables  with  a  broad-brimmed  glazed 
hat  on  his  head.  The  master  recognized  him 
as  the  agent  of  the  dramatic  company ;  he 
had  taken  a  dislike  to  him  at  their  first  meet 
ing,  from  the  peculiar  fashion  of  wearing  his 
beard  and  hair.  Satisfied  that  the  object  of 
his  search  was  not  there,  he  turned  to  the 
man  with  the  glazed  hat.  He  had  noticed 
the  master,  but  tried  that  common  trick 
of  unconsciousness,  in  which  vulgar  natures 
always  fail.  Balancing  a  billiard-cue  in  his 
hand,  he  pretended  to  play  with  a  ball  in  the 


ML  1 88.  73 

centre  of  the  table.  The  master  stood  op 
posite  to  him  until  he  raised  his  eyes ;  when 
their  glances  met,  the  master  walked  up  to 
him. 

He  had  intended  to  avoid  a  scene  or  quar 
rel,  but  when  he  began  to  speak  something 
kept  rising  in  his  throat  and  retarded  his 
utterance,  and  his  own  voice  frightened  him, 
it  sounded  so  distant,  low,  and  resonant. 

"  I  understand,"  he  began,  "  that  Melissa 
Smith,  an  orphan,  and  one  of  my  scholars, 
has  talked  with  you  about  adopting  your 
profession.  Is  that  so?" 

The  man  with  the  glazed  hat  leaned  over 
the  table,  and  made  an  imaginary  shot,  that 
sent  the  ball  spinning  round  the  cushions. 
Then  walking  round  the  table  he  recovered 
the  ball  and  placed  it  upon  the  spot.  This 
duty  discharged,  getting  ready  for  another 
shot,  he  said,  — 

"S'pose  she  has?" 

The  master  choked  up  again,  but,  squeez 
ing  the  cushion  of  the  table  in  his  gloved 
hand,  he  went  on  :  — 

"  If  you  are  a  gentleman,  I  have  only  to 
tell  you  that  I  am  her  guardian,  and  respon 
sible  for  her  career.  You  know  as  well  as  I 
do  the  kind  of  life  you  offer  her.  As  you 


74  MLISS. 

may  learn  of  any  one  here,  I  have  already 
brought  her  out  of  an  existence  worse  than 
death,  —  out  of  the  streets  and  the  contami 
nation  of  vice.  I  am  trying  to  do  so  again. 
Let  us  talk  like  men.  She  has  neither 
father,  mother,  sister,  or  brother.  Are  you 
seeking  to  give  her  an  equivalent  for  these?" 

The  man  with  the  glazed  hat  examined 
the  point  of  his  cue,  and  then  looked  around 
for  somebody  to  enjoy  the  joke  with  him. 

"I  know  that  she  is  a  strange,  wilful 
girl,"  continued  the  master,  "  but  she  is  bet 
ter  than  she  was.  I  believe  that  I  have  some 
influence  over  her  still.  I  beg  and  hope, 
therefore,  that  you  will  take  no  further  steps 
in  this  matter,  but  as  a  man,  as  a  gentle 
man,  leave  her  to  me.  I  am  willing "  — 
But  here  something  rose  again  in  the  mas 
ter's  throat,  and  the  sentence  remained  un 
finished. 

The  man  with  the  glazed  hat,  mistaking 
the  master's  silence,  raised  his  head  with 
a  coarse,  brutal  laugh,  and  said  in  a  loud 
voice,  — 

"  Want  her  yourself,  do  you  ?  That  cock 
won't  fight  here,  young  man  !  " 

The  insult  was  more  in  the  tone  than  the 
<*rords,  more  in  the  glance  than  tone,  and 


MLISS.  75 

more  in  the  man's  instinctive  nature  than 
all  these.  The  best  appreciable  rhetoric  to 
this  kind  of  animal  is  a  blow.  The  master 
felt  this,  and,  with  his  pent-up,  nervous  en 
ergy  finding  expression  in  the  one  act,  he 
struck  the  brute  full  in  his  grinning  face. 
The  blow  sent  the  glazed  hat  one  way  and 
the  cue  another,  and  tore  the  glove  and  skin 
from  the  master's  hand  from  knuckle  to 
joint.  It  opened  up  the  corners  of  the  fel 
low's  mouth,  and  spoilt  the  peculiar  shape 
of  his  beard  for  some  time  to  come. 

There  was  a  shout,  an  imprecation,  a 
scuffle,  and  the  trampling  of  many  feet. 
Then  the  crowd  parted  right  and  left,  and 
two  sharp  quick  reports  followed  each  other 
in  rapid  succession.  Then  they  closed  again 
about  his  opponent,  and  the  master  was 
standing  alone.  He  remembered  picking 
bits  of  burning  wadding  from  his  coat-sleeve 
with  his  left  hand.  Some  one  was  holding 
his  other  hand.  Looking  at  it,  he  saw  it 
was  still  bleeding  from  the  blow,  but  his 
fingers  were  clenched  around  the  handle  of 
a  glittering  knife.  He  could  not  remember 
when  or  how  he  got  it. 

The  man  who  was  holding  his  hand  was 
Mr.  Morpher.  He  hurried  the  master  to 


76  MLISS. 

the  door,  but  the  master  held  back,  and 
tried  to  tell  him  as  well  as  he  could  with  his 
parched  throat  about  "  Mliss."  "  It  's  all 
right,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Morpher.  "  She  's 
home  !  "  And  they  passed  out  into  the  street 
together.  As  they  walked  along,  Mr.  Mor 
pher  said  that  Mliss  had  come  running  into 
the  house  a  few  moments  before,  and  had 
dragged  him  out,  saying  that  somebody  was 
trying  to  kill  the  master  at  the  Arcade. 
Wishing  to  be  alone,  the  master  promised 
Mr.  Morpher  that  he  would  not  seek  the 
agent  again  that  night,  and  parted  from 
him,  taking  the  road  toward  the  school- 
house.  He  was  surprised  on  nearing  it  to 
find  the  door  open ;  still  more  surprised  to 
find  Mliss  sitting  there. 

The  master's  nature,  as  I  have  hinted  be 
fore,  had,  like  most  sensitive  organizations, 
a  selfish  basis.  The  brutal  taunt  thrown 
out  by  his  late  adversary  still  rankled  in  his 
heart.  It  was  possible,  he  thought,  that  such 
a  construction  might  be  put  upon  his  affec 
tion  for  the  child,  which  at  best  was  foolish 
and  Quixotic.  Besides,  had  she  not  volun 
tarily  abnegated  his  authority  and  affection  ? 
And  what  had  everybody  else  said  about 
her  ?  Why  should  he  alone  combat  the  opin- 


MLISS.  77 

ion  of  all,  and  be  at  last  obliged  tacitly  to 
confess  the  truth  of  all  they  had  predicted  ? 
And  he  had  been  a  participant  in  a  low  bar 
room  fight  with  a  common  boor,  and  risked 
his  life,  to  prove  what  ?  What  had  he 
proved  ?  Nothing  !  What  would  the  people 
say?  What  would  his  friends  say?  What 
would  McSnagley  say  ? 

In  his  self-accusation  the  last  person  he 
should  have  wished  to  meet  was  Mliss.  He 
entered  the  door,  and,  going  up  to  his  desk, 
told  the  child,  in  a  few  cold  words,  that  he 
was  busy,  and  wished  to  be  alone.  As  she 
rose  he  took  her  vacant  seat,  and,  sitting 
down,  buried  his  head  in  his  hands.  When 
he  looked  up  again  she  was  still  standing 
there.  She  was  looking  at  his  face  with  an 
anxious  expression. 

"  Did  you  kill  him  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No  !  "  said  the  master. 

"  That  's  what  I  gave  you  the  knife  for  !  " 
said  the  child,  quickly. 

"  Gave  me  the  knife  ?  "  repeated  the  mas 
ter,  in  bewilderment. 

"  Yes,  gave  you  the  knife.  I  was  there 
under  the  bar.  Saw  you  hit  him.  Saw  you 
both  fall.  He  dropped  his  old  knife.  I  gave 
it  to  you.  Why  did  n't  you  stick  him  ?  " 


T8  MLISS. 

said  Mliss  rapidly,  with  an  expressive  twinkle 
of  the  black  eyes  and  a  gesture  of  the  little 
red  hand. 

The  master  could  only  look  his  astonish 
ment. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mliss.  "  If  you  'd  asked  me, 
I  'd  told  you  I  was  off  with  the  play-actors. 
Why  was  I  off  with  the  play-actors?  Be 
cause  you  would  n't  tell  me  you  was  going 
away.  I  knew  it.  I  heard  you  tell  the  Doc 
tor  so.  I  was  n't  a  goin'  to  stay  here  alone 
with  those  Morphers.  I  'd  rather  die  first." 

With  a  dramatic  gesture  which  was  per 
fectly  consistent  with  her  character,  she  drew 
from  her  bosom  a  few  limp  green  leaves, 
and,  holding  them  out  at  arm's-length,  said 
in  her  quick  vivid  way,  and  in  the  queer 
pronunciation  of  her  old  life,  which  she  fell 
into  when  unduly  excited,  — 

"  That  's  the  poison  plant  you  said  would 
kill  me.  I  '11  go  with  the  play-actors,  or 
I  '11  eat  this  and  die  here.  I  don't  care 
which.  I  won't  stay  here,  where  they  hate 
and  despise  me  !  Neither  would  you  let  me, 
if  you  did  n't  hate  and  despise  me  too !  " 

The  passionate  little  breast  heaved,  and 
two  big  tears  peeped  over  the  edge  of  Mliss' s 
eyelids,  but  she  whisked  them  away  with  the 


MLISS.  79 

corner  of  her  apron  as  if  they  had  been 
wasps. 

"  If  you  lock  me  up  in  jail,"  said  Mliss 
fiercely,  "  to  keep  me  from  the  play-actors, 
I  '11  poison  myself.  Father  killed  himself, 
—  why  should  n't  I  ?  You  said  a  mouthful 
of  that  root  would  kill  me,  and  I  always 
carry  it  here,"  and  she  struck  her  breast 
with  her  clenched  fist. 

The  master  thought  of  the  vacant  plot  be 
side  Smith's  grave,  and  of  the  passionate  lit 
tle  figure  before  him.  Seizing  her  hands  in 
his  and  looking  full  into  her  truthful  eyes, 
he  said,  — 

"  Lissy,  will  you  go  with  me?" 

The  child  put  her  arms  around  his  neck, 
and  said  joyfully,  "  Yes." 

"  But  now  —  to-night  ?  " 

"To-night!" 

And,  hand  in  hand,  they  passed  into  the 
road,  —  the  narrow  road  that  had  once 
brought  her  weary  feet  to  the  master's  door, 
and  which  it  seemed  she  should  not  tread 
again  alone.  The  stars  glittered  brightly 
above  them.  For  good  or  ill  the  lesson  had 
been  learned,  and  behind  them  the  school  of 
Red  Mountain  closed  upon  them  forever. 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

As  Mr.  John  Oakhurst,  gambler,  stepped 
into  the  main  street  of  Poker  Flat  on  the 
morning  of  the  23d  of  November,  1850,  he 
was  conscious  of  a  change  in  its  moral  at 
mosphere  since  the  preceding  night.  Two 
or  three  men,  conversing  earnestly  together, 
ceased  as  he  approached,  and  exchanged  sig 
nificant  glances.  There  was  a  Sabbath  lull 
in  the  air,  which,  in  a  settlement  unused  to 
Sabbath  influences,  looked  ominous. 

Mr.  Oakhurst's  calm,  handsome  face  be 
trayed  small  concern  in  these  indications 
Whether  he  was  conscious  of  any  predispos 
ing  cause  was  another  question.  "  I  reck 
on  they  're  after  somebody,"  he  reflected  ; 
" likely  it's  me."  He  returned  to  his  pocket 
the  handkerchief  with  which  he  had  been 
whipping  away  the  red  dust  of  Poker  Flat 
from  his  neat  boots,  and  quietly  discharged 
his  mind  of  any  further  conjecture. 

In  point  of  fact,  Poker  Flat  was  "  after 


THE    OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.          81 

somebody."  It  had  lately  suffered  the  loss 
of  several  thousand  dollars,  two  valuable 
horses,  and  a  prominent  citizen.  It  was 
experiencing  a  "spasm  of  virtuous  reaction, 
quite  as  lawless  and  ungovernable  as  any  of 
the  acts  that  had  provoked  it.  A  secret 
committee  had  determined  to  rid  the  town  of 
all  improper  persons.  This  was  done  perma 
nently  in  regard  of  two  men  who  were  then 
hanging  from  the  boughs  of  a  sycamore  in 
the  gulch,  and  temporarily  in  the  banishment 
of  certain  other  objectionable  characters.  I 
regret  to  say  that  some  of  these  were  ladies. 
It  is  but  due  to  the  sex,  however,  to  state 
that  their  impropriety  was  professional,  and 
it  was  only  in  such  easily  established  stand 
ards  of  evil  that  Poker  Flat  ventured  to  sit 
in  judgment. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  was  right  in -supposing  that 
he  was  included  in  this  category.  A  few  of 
the  committee  had  urged  hanging  him  as  a 
possible  example,  and  a  sure  method  of  re 
imbursing  themselves  from  his  pockets  of  the 
sums  he  had  won  from  them.  "  It 's  agin 
justice,"  said  Jim  Wheeler,  "  to  let  this  yer 
young  man  from  Roaring  Camp  —  an  entire 
stranger  —  carry  away  our  money."  But  a 
crude  sentiment  of  equity  residing  in  the 


82         THE   OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

breasts  of  those  who  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  win  from  Mr.  Oakhurst  overruled 
this  narrower  local  prejudice. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  received  his  sentence  with 
philosophic  calmness,  none  the  less  coolly 
that  he  was  aware  of  the  hesitation  of  his 
judges.  He  was  too  much  of  a  gambler  not 
to  accept  fate.  With  him  life  was  at  best 
an  uncertain  game,  and  he  recognized  the 
usual  percentage  in  favor  of  the  dealer. 

A  body  of  armed  men  accompanied  the 
deported  wickedness  of  Poker  Flat  to  the 
outskirts  of  the  settlement.  Besides  Mr. 
Oakhurst,  who  was  known  to  be  a  coolly  des 
perate  man,  and  for  whose  intimidation  the 
armed  escort  was  intended,  the  expatriated 
party  consisted  of  a  young  woman  famil 
iarly  known  as  the  "Duchess; "  another  who 
had  won  the  title  of  "  Mother  Shipton  ;  " 
and  "Uncle  Billy,"  a  suspected  sluice-rob 
ber  and  confirmed  drunkard.  The  cavalcade 
provoked  no  comments  from  the  spectators, 
nor  was  any  word  uttered  by  the  escort. 
Only  when  the  gulch  which  marked  the  ut 
termost  limit  of  Poker  Flat  was  reached,  the 
leader  spoke  briefly  and  to  the  point.  The 
exiles  were  forbidden  to  return  at  the  peril 
of  their  lives. 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.    83 

As  the  escort  disappeared,  their  pent-up 
feelings  found  vent  in  a  few  hysterical  tears 
from  the  Duchess,  some  bad  language  from 
Mother  Shipton,  and  a  Parthian  volley  of 
expletives    from   Uncle   Billy.     The   philo 
sophic  Oakhurst  alone  remained  silent.     He 
listened  calmly  to  Mother  Shipton's  desire 
to  cut  somebody's  heart  out,  to  the  repeated 
statements  of  the  Duchess*  that  she  would 
die  in  the  road,  and  to  the  alarming  oaths 
that   seemed   to  be  bumped   out   of   Uncle 
Billy  as  he  rode  forward.     With  the  easy 
good-humor  characteristic  of  his  class,  he  in 
sisted  upon  exchanging  his  own  riding-horse, 
"  Five  Spot,"  for  the  sorry  mule  which  the 
Duchess  rode.     But  even  this  act  did  not 
draw  the  party  into  any  closer  sympathy. 
The  young  woman  readjusted  her  somewhat 
draggled  plumes  with   a   feeble,  faded   co 
quetry  ;  Mother  Shipton  eyed  the  possessor 
of  "  Five  Spot  "  with  malevolence,  and  Un 
cle  Billy  included  the  whole  party  in  one 
sweeping  anathema. 

The  road  to  Sandy  Bar  —  a  camp  that, 
not  having  as  yet  experienced  the  regen 
erating  influences  of  Poker  Flat,  conse 
quently  seemed  to  offer  some  invitation  to 
the  emigrants  —  lay  over  a  steep  mountain 


84    THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

range.  It  was  distant  a  day's  severe  travel 
In  that  advanced  season,  the  party  soon 
passed  out  of  the  moist,  temperate  regions 
of  the  foot-hills  into  the  dry,  cold,  bracing 
air  of  the  Sierras.  The  trail  was  narrow 
and  difficult.  At  noon  the  Duchess,  rolling 
out  of  her  saddle  upon  the  ground,  declared 
her  intention  of  going  no  farther,  and  the 
party  halted. 

The  spot  was  singularly  wild  and  impres 
sive.  A  wooded  amphitheatre,  surrounded 
on  three  sides  by  precipitous  cliffs  of  naked 
granite,  sloped  gently  toward  the  crest  of 
another  precipice  that  overlooked  the  valley. 
It  was,  undoubtedly,  the  most  suitable  spot 
for  a  camp,  had  camping  been  advisable. 
But  Mr.  Oakhurst  knew  that  scarcely  half 
the  journey  to  Sandy  Bar  was  accomplished, 
and  the  party  were  not  equipped  or  provis 
ioned  for  delay.  This  fact  he  pointed  out 
to  his  companions  curtly,  with  a  philosophic 
commentary  on  the  folly  of  "  throwing  up 
their  hand  before  the  game  was  played  out." 
But  they  were  furnished  with  liquor,  which 
in  this  emergency  stood  them  in  place  of 
food,  fuel,  rest,  and  prescience.  In  spite  of 
his  remonstrances,  it  was  not  long  before 
they  were  more  or  less  under  its  influence. 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.    85 

Uncle  Billy  passed  rapidly  from  a  bellicose 
state  into  one  of  stupor,  the  Duchess  became 
maudlin,  and  Mother  Shipton  snored.  Mr. 
Oakhurst  alone  remained  erect,  leaning 
against  a  rock,  calmly  surveying  them. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  did  not  drink.  It  inter 
fered  with  a  profession  which  required  cool- 
ness,  impassiveness,  and  presence  of  mind, 
and,  in  his  own  language,-  he  "  could  n't 
afford  it."  As  he  gazed  at  his  recumbent 
fellow-exiles,  the  loneliness  begotten  of  his 
pariah-trade,  his  habits  of  life,  his  very  vices, 
for  the  first  time  seriously  oppressed  him. 
He  bestirred  himself  in  dusting  his  black 
clothes,  washing  his  hands  and  face,  and 
other  acts  characteristic  of  his  studiously 
neat  habits,  and  for  a  moment  forgot  his 
annoyance.  The  thought  of  deserting  his 
weaker  and  more  pitiable  companions  never 
perhaps  occurred  to  him.  Yet  he  could  not 
help  feeling  the  want  of  that  excitement 
which,  singularly  enough,  was  most  con 
ducive  to  that  calm  equanimity  for  which  he 
was  notorious.  He  looked  at  the  gloomy 
walls  that  rose  a  thousand  feet  sheer  above 
the  circling  pines  around  him  ;  at  the  sky, 
ominously  clouded ;  at  the  valley  below,  al 
ready  deepening  into  shadow.  And,  doing 
so,  suddenly  he  heard  his  own  name  called. 


86         THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

A  horseman  slowly  ascended  the  trail.  In 
the  fresh,  open  face  of  the  new-comer  Mr. 
Oakhurst  recognized  Tom  Simson,  other 
wise  known  as  the  "Innocent,"  of  Sandy 
Bar.  He  had  met  him  some  months  before 
over  a  "  little  game,"  and  had,  with  per 
fect  equanimity,  won  the  entire  fortune  — 
amounting  to  some  forty  dollars  —  of  that 
guileless  youth.  After  the  game  was  fin 
ished,  Mr.  Oakhurst  drew  the  youthful  spec 
ulator  behind  the  door  and  thus  addressed 
him  :  "  Tommy,  you  're  a  good  little  man, 
but  you  can't  gamble  worth  a  cent.  Don't 
try  it  over  again."  He  then  handed  him 
his  money  back,  pushed  him  gently  from  the 
room,  and  so  made  a  devoted  slave  of  Tom 
Simson. 

There  was  a  remembrance  of  this  in  his 
boyish  and  enthusiastic  greeting  of  Mr.  Oak 
hurst.  He  had  started,  he  said,  to  go  to 
Poker  Flat  to  seek  his  fortune.  "Alone?" 
No,  not  exactly  alone  ;  in  fact  (a  giggle),  he 
had  run  away  with  Piney  Woods.  Did  n't 
Mr.  Oakhurst  remember  Piney  ?  She  that 
used  to  wait  on  the  table  at  the  Temperance 
House  ?  They  had  been  engaged  a  long  time, 
but  old  Jake  Woods  had  objected,  and  so 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.    87 

they  had  run  away,  and  were  going  to  Poker 
Flat  to  be  married,  and  here  they  were.  And 
they  were  tired  out,  and  how  lucky  it  was 
they  had  found  a  place  to  camp,  and  com 
pany.  All  this  the  Innocent  delivered  rap 
idly,  while  Piney,  a  stout,  comely  damsel  of 
fifteen,  emerged  from  behind  the  pine-tree 
where  she  had  been  blushing  unseen,  and 
rode  to  the  side  of  her  loveiw 

Mr.  Oakhurst  seldom  troubled  himself  with 
sentiment,  still  less  with  propriety;  but  he 
had  a  vague  idea  that  the  situation  was  not 
fortunate.  He  retained,  however,  his  pres 
ence  of  mind  sufficiently  to  kick  Uncle  Billy, 
who  was  about  to  say  something,  and  Uncle 
Billy  was  sober  enough  to  recognize  in  Mr. 
Oakhurst's  kick  a  superior  power  that  would 
not  bear  trifling.  He  then  endeavored  to 
dissuade  Tom  Simson  from  delaying  further, 
but  in  vain.  He  even  pointed  out  the  fact 
that  there  was  no  provision,  nor  means  of 
making  a  camp.  But,  unluckily,  the  Inno 
cent  met  this  objection  by  assuring  the  party 
that  he  was  provided  with  an  extra  mule 
loaded  with  provisions,  and  by  the  discovery 
of  a  rude  attempt  at  a  log-house  near  the 
trail.  "  Piney  can  stay  with  Mrs.  Oak- 
hurst,"  said  the  Innocent,  pointing  to  the 
Duchess,  '•«  and  I  can  shift  for  myself." 


88         THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

Nothing  but  Mr.  Oakhurst's  admonishing 
foot  saved  Uncle  Billy  from  bursting  into  a 
roar  of  laughter.  As  it  was,  he  felt  com 
pelled  to  retire  up  the  canon  until  he  could 
recover  his  gravity.  There  he  confided  the 
joke  to  the  tall  pine-trees,  with  many  slaps 
of  his  leg,  contortions  of  his  face,  and  the 
usual  profanity.  But  when  he  returned  to 
the  party,  he  found  them  seated  by  a  fire  — 
for  the  air  had  grown  strangely  chill  and 
the  sky  overcast  —  in  apparently  amicable 
conversation.  Piney  was  actually  talking  in 
an  impulsive,  girlish  fashion  to  the  Duchess, 
who  was  listening  with  an  interest  and  an 
imation  she  had  not  shown  for  many  days. 
The  Innocent  was  holding  forth,  apparently 
with  equal  effect,  to  Mr.  Oakhurst  and 
Mother  Shipton,  who  was  actually  relaxing 
into  amiability.  "  Is  this  yer  a  d — d  pic 
nic  ?  "  said  Uncle  Billy,  with  inward  scorn, 
as  he  surveyed  the  sylvan  group,  the  glan 
cing  firelight,  and  the  tethered  animals  in 
the  foreground.  Suddenly  an  idea  mingled 
with  the  alcoholic  fumes  that  disturbed  his 
brain.  It  was  apparently  of  a  jocular  nature, 
for  he  felt  impelled  to  slap  his  leg  again  and 
cram  his  fist  into  his  mouth. 

As    the    shadows    crept    slowly  up    the 


THE  OUTCASTS   OF  POKER  FLAT.         89 

mountain,  a  slight  breeze  rocked  the  tops 
of  the  pine-trees,  and  moaned  through  their 
long  and  gloomy  aisles.  The  ruined  cabin, 
patched  and  covered  with  pine-boughs,  was 
set  apart  for  the  ladies.  As  the  lovers 
parted  they  unaffectedly  exchanged  a  kiss, 
so  honest  and  sincere  that  it  might  have 
been  heard  above  the  swaying  pines.  The 
frail  Duchess  and  the  malevolent  Mother 
Shipton  were  probably  too  stunned  to  re 
mark  upon  this  last  evidence  of  simplicity, 
and  so  turned  without  a  word  to  the  hut. 
The  fire  was  replenished,  the  men  lay  down 
before  the  door,  and  in  a  few  minutes  were 
asleep. 

Mr.  Oakhurst  was  a  light  sleeper.  To 
ward  morning  he  awoke  benumbed  and  cold. 
As  he  stirred  the  dying  fire,  the  wind,  which 
was  now  blowing  strongly,  brought  to  his 
cheek  that  which  caused  the  blood  to  leave 
it,  —  snow ! 

He  started  to  his  feet  with  the  intention 
of  awakening  the  sleepers,  for  there  was  no 
time  to  lose.  But  turning  to  where  Uncle 
Billy  had  been  lying,  he  found  him  gone. 
A  suspicion  leaped  to  his  brain  and  a  curse 
to  his  lips.  He  ran  to  the  spot  where  the 
mules  had  been  tethered ;  they  were  no  longer 


90          THE   OUTCASTS   OF  POKER  FLAT. 

there.     The  tracks  were  already  rapidly  dis- 
appearing  in  the  snow. 

The  momentary  excitement  brought  Mr. 
Oakhurst  back  to  the  fire  with  his  usual 
calm.  He  did  not  waken  the  sleepers.  The 
Innocent  slumbered  peacefully,  with  a  smile 
on  his  good-humored,  freckled  face ;  the  vir 
gin  Piney  slept  beside  her  frailer  sisters  as 
sweetly  as  though  attended  by  celestial  guard 
ians,  and  Mr.  Oakhurst,  drawing  his  blan 
ket  over  his  shoulders,  stroked  his  mustaches 
and  waited  for  the  dawn.  It  came  slowly  in 
a  whirling  mist  of  snowflakes,  that  dazzled 
and  confused  the  eye.  What  could  be  seen 
of  the  landscape  appeared  magically  changed. 
He  looked  over  the  valley,  and  summed 
up  the  present  and  future  in  two  words,  — 
"Snowed  in!" 

A  careful  inventory  of  the  provisions, 
which,  fortunately  for  the  party,  had  been 
stored  within  the  hut,  and  so  escaped  the 
felonious  fingers  of  Uncle  Billy,  disclosed 
the  fact  that  with  care  and  prudence  they 
might  last  ten  days  longer.  "  That  is,"  said 
Mr.  Oakhurst,  sotto  voce  to  the  Innocent, 
"  if  you  're  willing  to  board  us.  If  you  ain't 
*—  and  perhaps  you  'd  better  not  —  you  can 
wait  till  Uncle  Billy  gets  back  with  pro- 


THE   OUTCASTS   OF  POKER  FLAT.         91 

visions."  For  some  occult  reason,  Mr. 
Oakhurst  could  not  bring  himself  to  dis 
close  Uncle  Billy's  rascality,  and  so  offered 
the  hypothesis  that  he  had  wandered  from 
the  camp  and  had  accidentally  stampeded 
the  animals.  He  dropped  a  warning  to  the 
Duchess  and  Mother  Shipton,  who  of  course 
knew  the  facts  of  their  associate's  defection. 
"They'll  find  out  the  truth  about  us  all 
when  they  find  out  anything,"  he  added,  sig 
nificantly,  "  and  there  's  no  good  frightening 
them  now." 

Tom  Simson  not  only  put  all  his  worldly 
store  at  the  disposal  of  Mr.  Oakhurst,  but 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  prospect  of  their  en 
forced  seclusion.  "  We  '11  have  a  good  camp 
for  a  week,  and  then  the  snow  '11  melt,  and 
we  '11  all  go  back  together."  The  cheerful 
gayety  of  the  young  man  and  Mr.  Oak- 
hurst's  calm  infected  the  others.  The  Inno 
cent,  with  the  aid  of  pine-boughs,  extempo 
rized  a  thatch  for  the  roofless  cabin,  and  the 
Duchess  directed  Piney  in  the  rearrange 
ment  of  the  interior  with  a  taste  and  tact 
that  opened  the  blue  eyes  of  that  provincial 
maiden  to  their  fullest  extent.  "  I  reckon 
now  you  're  used  to  fine  things  at  Poker 
Flat,"  said  Piney.  The  Duchess  turned 


92          THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

away  sharply  to  conceal  something  that  red 
dened  her  cheeks  through  their  professional 
tint,  and  Mother  Shipton  requested  Piney 
not  to  "  chatter."  But  when  Mr.  Oakhurst 
returned  from  a  weary  search  for  the  trail, 
he  heard  the  sound  of  happy  laughter  echoed 
from  the  rocks.  He  stopped  in  some  alarm, 
and  his  thoughts  first  naturally  reverted  to 
the  whiskey,  which  he  had  prudently  cached. 
"  And  yet  it  don't  somehow  sound  like  whis 
key,"  said  the  gambler.  It  was  not  until  he 
caught  sight  of  the  blazing  fire  through  the 
still  blinding  storm  and  the  group  around  it 
that  he  settled  to  the  conviction  that  it  was 
"square  fun." 

Whether  Mr.  Oakhurst  had  cachSd  his 
cards  with  the  whiskey  as  something  de 
barred  the  free  access  of  the  community,  I 
cannot  say.  It  was  certain  that,  in  Mother 
Shipton's  words,  he  "  did  n't  say  cards  once  " 
during  that  evening.  Haply  the  time  was 
beguiled  by  an  accordion,  produced  some 
what  ostentatiously  by  Tom  Simson  from 
his  pack.  Notwithstanding  some  difficulties 
attending  the  manipulation  of  this  instru 
ment,  Piney  Woods  managed  to  pluck  sev 
eral  reluctant  melodies  from  its  keys,  to  an 
accompaniment  by  the  Innocent  on  a  pair  of 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.         SB 

bone  castanets.  But  the  crowning  festivity 
of  the  evening  was  reached  in  a  rude  camp- 
meeting  hymn,  which  the  lovers,  joining 
hands,  sang  with  great  earnestness  and  vo 
ciferation.  I  fear  that  a  certain  defiant  tone 
arid  Covenanter's  swing  to  its  chorus,  rather 
than  any  devotional  quality,  caused  it  speed 
ily  to  infect  the  others,  who  at  last  joined  in 
the  refrain :  — 

"  I  'm  proud  to  live  in  the  service  of  the  Lord, 
And  I  'm  bound  to  die  in  His  army." 

The  pines  rocked,  the  storm  eddied  and 
whirled  above  the  miserable  group,  and  the 
flames  of  their  altar  leaped  heavenward,  as 
if  in  token  of  the  vow. 

At  midnight  the  storm  abated,  the  rolling 
clouds  parted,  and  the  stars  glittered  keenly 
above  the  sleeping  camp.  Mr.  Oakhurst, 
whose  professional  habits  had  enabled  him 
to  live  on  the  smallest  possible  amount  of 
sleep,  in  dividing  the  watch  with  Tom  Sim- 
son,  somehow  managed  to  take  upon  himself 
the  greater  part  of  that  duty.  He  excused 
himself  to  the  Innocent  by  saying  that  he 
had  "  often  been  a  week  without  sleep." 
"  Doing  what  ?  "  asked  Tom.  "  Poker  !  " 
replied  Oakhurst,  sententiously  ;  "  when  a 
man  gets  a  streak  of  luck,  —  nigger-luck,  -^ 


94         THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

he  don't  get  tired.  The  luck  gives  in  first. 
Luck,"  continued  the  gambler,  reflectively, 
"is  a  mighty  queer  thing.  All  you  know 
about  it  for  certain  is  that  it 's  bound  to 
change.  And  it 's  finding  out  when  it 's 
going  to  change  that  makes  you.  We  've 
had  a  streak  of  bad  luck  since  we  left  Poker 
Flat,  —  you  come  along,  and  slap  you  get 
into  it,  too.  If  you  can  hold  your  cards 
right  along,  you  're  all  right.  For,"  added 
the  gambler,  with  cheerful  irrelevance,  — 

"  '  I  'm  proud  to  live  in  the  service  of  the  Lord, 
And  I  'm  bound  to  die  in  His  army.'  " 

The  third  day  came,  and  the  sun,  looking 
through  the  white-curtained  valley,  saw  the 
outcasts  divide  their  slowly  decreasing  store 
of  provisions  for  the  morning  meal.  It 
was  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  that  moun 
tain  climate  that  its  rays  diffused  a  kindly 
warmth  over  the  wintry  landscape,  as  if  in 
regretful  commiseration  of  the  past.  But  it 
revealed  drift  on  drift  of  snow  piled  high 
around  the  hut,  —  a  hopeless,  uncharted, 
trackless  sea  of  white  lying  below  the  rocky 
shores  to  which  the  castaways  still  clung. 
Through  the  marvellously  clear  air  the  smoke 
of  the  pastoral  village  of  Poker  Flat  rose 
miles  away.  Mother  Shipton  saw  it,  and 


THE  OUTCASTS   OF  POKER  FLAT.         95 

from  a  remote  pinnacle  of  her  rocky  fast 
ness  hurled  in  that  direction  a  final  mal 
ediction.  It  was  her  last  vituperative  at 
tempt,  and  perhaps  for  that  reason  was 
invested  with  a  certain  degree  of  sublimity. 
It  did  her  good,  she  privately  informed  the 
Duchess.  "  Just  you  go  out  there  and  cuss, 
and  see."  She  then  set  herself  to  the  task 
of  amusing  "the  child,"  -as  she  and  the 
Duchess  were  pleased  to  call  Piney.  Piney 
was  no  chicken,  but  it  was  a  soothing  and 
original  theory  of  the  pair  thus  to  account 
for  the  fact  that  she  did  n't  swear  and  was 
n't  improper. 

When  night  crept  up  again  through  the 
gorges,  the  reedy  notes  of  the  accordion  rose 
and  fell  in  fitful  spasms  and  long-drawn 
gasps  by  the  flickering  camp-fire.  But  mu 
sic  failed  to  fill  entirely  the  aching  void  left 
by  insufficient  food,  and  a  new  diversion 
was  proposed  by  Piney,  story-telling.  Nei 
ther  Mr.  Oakhurst  nor  his  female  compan 
ions  caring  to  relate  their  personal  experi 
ences,  this  plan  would  have  failed,  too,  but 
for  the  Innocent.  Some  months  before  he 
had  chanced  upon  a  stray  copy  of  Mr.  Pope's 
ingenious  translation  of  the  Iliad.  He  now 
proposed  to  narrate  the  principal  incidents 


96      .   THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT. 

of  that  poem  —  having  thoroughly  mastered 
the  argument  and  fairly  forgotten  the  words 
—  in  the  current  vernacular  of  Sandy  Bar. 
And  so  for  the  rest  of  that  night  the  Ho 
meric  demigods  again  walked  the  earth. 
Trojan  bully  and  wily  Greek  wrestled  in  the 
winds,  and  the  great  pines  in  the  canon 
seemed  to  bow  to  the  wrath  of  the  son  of 
Peleus.  Mr.  Oakhurst  listened  with  quiet 
satisfaction.  Most  especially  was  he  inter 
ested  in  the  fate  of  "  Ash-heels,"  as  the  In 
nocent  persisted  in  denominating  the  "  swift- 
footed  Achilles." 

So  with  small  food  and  much  of  Homer 
and  the  accordion,  a  week  passed  over  the 
heads  of  the  outcasts.  The  sun  again  for 
sook  them,  and  again  from  leaden  skies  the 
snowflakes  were  sifted  over  the  land.  Day 
by  day  closer  around  them  drew  the  snowy 
circle,  until  at  last  they  looked  from  their 
prison  over  drifted  walls  of  dazzling  white, 
that  towered  twenty  feet  above  their  heads. 
It  became  more  and  more  difficult  to  replen 
ish  their  fires,  even  from  the  fallen  trees  be- 
dde  them,  now  half  hidden  in  the  drifts. 
And  yet  no  one  complained.  The  lovers 
turned  from  the  dreary  prospect  and  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes,  and  were  happy.  Mr. 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.         97 

Oakliurst  settled  himself  coolly  to  the  losing 
game  before  him.  The  Duchess,  more  cheer 
ful  than  she  had  been,  assumed  the  care  of 
Piney.  Only  Mother  Shipton  —  once  the 
strongest  of  the  party  —  seemed  to  sicken 
and  fade.  At  midnight  on  the  tenth  day 
she  called  Oakhurst  to  her  side.  "  I  'm  go 
ing,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  of  querulous  weak 
ness,  "  but  don't  say  anything  about  it. 
Don't  waken  the  kids.  Take  the  bundle 
from  under  my  head  and  open  it."  Mr. 
Oakhurst  did  so.  It  contained  Mother 
Shipton's  rations  for  the  last  week,  un 
touched.  "  Give  'em  to  the  child,"  she  said, 
pointing  to  the  sleeping  Piney.  "  You  've 
starved  yourself,"  said  the  gambler.  "  That 's 
what  they  call  it,"  said  the  woman,  queru 
lously,  as  she  lay  down  again,  and,  turning 
her  face  to  the  wall,  passed  quietly  away. 

The  accordion  and  the  bones  were  put 
aside  that  day,  and  Homer  was  forgotten. 
When  the  body  of  Mother  Shipton  had  been 
committed  to  the  snow,  Mr.  Oakhurst  took 
the  Innocent  aside  and  showed  him  a  pair 
of  snow-shoes,  which  he  had  fashioned  from 
the  old  pack-saddle.  "  There  's  one  chance 
in  a  hundred  to  save  her  yet,"  he  said,  point 
ing  to  Piney ;  "  but  it 's  there,"  he  added-, 


D8          THE   OUTCASTS   OF  POKER  FLAT. 

pointing  toward  Poker  Flat.  "If  you  can 
reach  there  in  two  days  she  's  safe."  "  And 
you  ? "  asked  Tom  Simson.  "  I  '11  stay 
here,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

The  lovers  parted  with  a  long  embrace. 
"  You  are  not  going,  too?  "  said  the  Duch 
ess,  as  she  saw  Mr.  Oakhurst  apparently 
waiting  to  accompany  him.  "  As  far  as  the 
canon,"  he  replied.  He  turned  suddenly 
and  kissed  the  Duchess,  leaving  her  pallid 
face  aflame  and  her  trembling  limbs  rigid 
with  amazement. 

Night  came,  but  not  Mr.  Oakhurst.  It 
brought  the  storm  again  and  the  whirling- 
snow.  Then  the  Duchess,  feeding  the  fire, 
found  that  some  one  had  quietly  piled  beside 
the  hut  enough  fuel  to  last  a  few  days  longer. 
The  tears  rose  to  her  eyes,  but  she  hid  them 
from  Piney. 

The  women  slept  but  little.  In  the  morn 
ing,  looking  into  each  other's  faces,  they 
read  their  fate.  Neither  spoke ;  but  Piney, 
accepting  the  position  of  the  stronger,  drew 
near  and  placed  her  arm  around  the  Duch 
ess's  waist.  They  kept  this  attitude  for  the 
rest  of  the  day.  That  night  the  storm 
reached  its  greatest  fury,  and,  rending  asun 
der  the  protecting  pines,  invaded  the  very 
hut. 


THE  OUTCASTS  OF  POKER  FLAT.          99 

Toward  morning  they  found  themselves 
unable  to  feed  the  fire,  which  gradually  died 
away.  As  the  embers  slowly  blackened,  the 
Duchess  crept  closer  to  Piney,  and  broke 
the  silence  of  many  hours :  "  Piney,  can 
you  pray  ?  "  "  No,  dear,"  said  Piney,  simply. 
The  Duchess,  without  knowing  exactly  why, 
felt  relieved,  and,  putting  her  head  upon 
Piney's  shoulder,  spoke  no  .more.  And  so 
reclining,  the  younger  and  purer  pillowing 
the  head  of  her  soiled  sister  upon  her  virgin 
breast,  they  fell  asleep. 

The  wind  lulled  as  if  it  feared  to  waken 
them.  Feathery  drifts  of  snow,  shaken  from 
the  long  pine-boughs,  flew  like  white-winged 
birds,  and  settled  about  them  as  they  slept. 
The  moon  through  the  rifted  clouds  looked 
down  upon  what  had  been  the  camp.  But 
all  human  stain,  all  trace  of  earthly  travail, 
was  hidden  beneath  the  spotless  mantle  mer 
cifully  flung  from  above. 

They  slept  all  that  day  and  the  next,  nor 
did  they  waken  when  voices  and  footsteps 
broke  the  silence  of  the  camp.  And  when 
pitying  fingers  brushed  the  snow  from  their 
wan  faces,  you  could  scarcely  have  told,  from 
the  equal  peace  that  dwelt  upon  them,  which 
was  she  that  had  sinned.  Even  the  law  of 


100       THE  OUTCASTS   OF  POKER  FLAT. 

Poker  Flat  recognized  this,  and  turned  away, 
leaving  them  still  locked  in  each  other's 
arms. 

But  at  the  head  of  the  gulch,  on  one  of 
the  largest  pine-trees,  they  found  the  deuce 
of  clubs  pinned  to  the  bark  with  a  bowie- 
knife.  It  bore  the  following,  written  in  pen- 
oil,  in  a  firm  hand  :  — 


BENEATH  THIS  TREE 

LIES  THE  BODY 

OF 

JOHN  OAKHURST, 

VHO  STRUCK  A  STREAK  OF  BAD  LUCK 
ON  THE  23D  OF  NOVEMBER,  1850, 

AND 

HANDED  IN  HIS  CHECKS 
ON  THE  7TH  DECEMBER,  1850. 

I 

And  pulseless  and  cold,  with  a  derringer 
by  his  side  and  a  bullet  in  his  heart,  though 
still  calm  as  in  life,  beneath  the  snow  lay  he 
who  was  at  once  the  strongest  and  yet  the 
weakest  of  the  outcasts  of  Poker  Flat. 


HIGGLES. 


WE  were  eight,  including  the  driver.  We 
had  not  spoken  during  the  passage  of  the 
last  six  miles,  since  the  jolting  of  the  heavy 
vehicle  over  the  roughening  road  had  spoiled 
the  Judge's  last  poetical  quotation.  The  tall 
man  beside  the  Judge  was  asleep,  his  arm 
passed  through  the  swaying  strap  and  his 
head  resting  upon  it,  —  altogether  a  limp, 
helpless-looking  object,  as  if  he  had  hanged 
himself  and  been  cut  down  too  late.  The 
French  lady  on  the  back  seat  was  asleep, 
too,  yet  in  a  half-conscious  propriety  of  at 
titude,  shown  even  in  the  disposition  of  the 
handkerchief  which  she  held  to  her  forehead 
and  which  partially  veiled  her  face.  The 
lady  from  Virginia  City,  travelling  with  her 
husband,  had  long  since  lost  all  individual 
ity  in  a  wild  confusion  of  ribbons,  veils,  furs, 
and  shawls.  There  was  no  sound  but  the 
rattling  of  wheels  and  the  dash  of  rain  upon 
the  roof.  Suddenly  the  stage  stopped  and 


HIGGLES. 


we  became  dimly  aware  of  voices.  The 
driver  was  evidently  in  the  midst  of  an  ex 
citing  colloquy  with  some  one  in  the  road, 
—  a  colloquy  of  which  such  fragments  as 
"  bridge  gone,"  "  twenty  feet  of  water," 
"can't  pass,"  were  occasionally  distinguish 
able  above  the  storm.  Then  came  a  lull,  and 
a  mysterious  voice  from  the  road  shouted 
the  parting  adjuration,  — 

"  Try  Miggles's." 

We  caught  a  glimpse  of  our  leaders  as 
the  vehicle  slowly  turned,  of  a  horseman 
vanishing  through  the  rain,  and  we  were  evi 
dently  on  our  way  to  Miggles's. 

Who  and  where  was  Miggles  ?  The  Judge, 
our  authority,  did  not  remember  the  name, 
and  he  knew  the  country  thoroughly.  The 
Washoe  traveller  thought  Miggles  must 
keep  a  hotel.  We  only  knew  that  we  were 
stopped  by  high  water  in  front  and  rear, 
and  that  Miggles  was  our  rock  of  refuge. 
A  ten  minutes'  splashing  through  a  tangled 
by-road,  scarcely  wide  enough  for  the  stage, 
and  we  drew  up  before  a  barred  and  boarded 
gate  in  a  wide  stone  wall  or  fence  about 
eight  feet  high.  Evidently  Miggles's,  and 
evidently  Miggles  did  not  keep  a  hotel. 

The  driver  got  down  and  tried  the  gate. 
It  was  securely  locked. 


HIGGLES.  103 

"  Higgles !  O  Higgles !  " 

No  answer. 

"  Higg-ells !  You  Higgles  !  "  continued 
the  driver,  with  rising  wrath. 

"  Higglesy !  "  joined  in  the  expressman, 
persuasively.  "  O  Higgy !  Mig !  " 

But  no  reply  came  from  the  apparently 
insensible  Higgles.  The  Judge,  who  had 
finally  got  the  window  down,  put  his  head 
out  and  propounded  a  series  of  questions, 
which,  if  answered  categorically,  would  have 
undoubtedly  elucidated  the  whole  mystery, 
but  which  the  driver  evaded  by  replying 
that  "if  we  did  n't  want  to  sit  in  the  coach 
all  night,  we  had  better  rise  up  and  sing  out 
for  Higgles." 

So  we  rose  up  and  called  on  Higgles  in 
chorus  ;  then  separately.  And  when  we  had 
finished,  a  Hibernian  fellow-passenger  from 
the  roof  called  for  "  Haygells  !  "  whereat  we 
all  laughed.  While  we  were  laughing,  the 
driver  cried  "  Shoo  !  " 

We  listened.  To  our  infinite  amazement 
the  chorus  of  "  Higgles  "  was  repeated  from 
the  other  side  of  the  wall,  even  to  the  final 
and  supplemental  "  Haygells." 

"  Extraordinary  echo,"  said  the  Judge. 

"  Extraordinary  d — d  skunk  ! "  roared  the 


104  NIGGLES. 

driver,  contemptuously.  "  Come  out  of  that, 
Miggles,  and  show  yourself !  Be  a  man, 
Miggles !  Don't  hide  in  the  dark  ;  I  would 
n't  if  I  were  you,  Miggles,"  continued  Yuba 
Bill,  now  dancing  about  in  an  excess  of  fury. 

"  Miggles  !  "  continued  the  voice,  "  O 
Miggles !  " 

"  My  good  man  !  Mr.  Myghail !  "  said  the 
Judge,  softening  the  asperities  of  the  name 
as  much  as  possible,  "  consider  the  inhospi- 
tality  of  refusing  shelter  from  the  inclem 
ency  of  the  weather  to  helpless  females. 
Really,  my  dear  sir  "  —  But  a  succession 
of  "  Miggles,"  ending  in  a  burst  of  laughter, 
drowned  his  voice. 

Yuba  Bill  hesitated  no  longer.  Taking  a 
heavy  stone  from  the  road,  he  battered  down 
the  gate,  and,  with  the  expressman,  entered 
the  enclosure.  We  followed.  Nobody  was 
to  be  seen.  In  the  gathering  darkness  all 
that  we  could  distinguish  was  that  we  were 
in  a  garden  —  from  the  rose-bushes  that 
scattered  over  us  a  minute  spray  from  their 
dripping  leaves  —  and  before  a  long,  ram 
bling  wooden  building. 

"  Do  you  know  this  Miggles  ?  "  asked  the 
Judge  of  Yuba  Bill. 

"No,  nor  don't  want  to,"  said  Bill,  shortly, 


HIGGLES.  105 

who  felt  the  Pioneer  Stage  Company  in. 
suited  in  his  person  by  the  contumacious 
Higgles. 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  expostulated  the 
Judge,  as  he  thought  of  the  barred  gate. 

"  Lookee  here,"  said  Yuba  Bill,  with  fine 
irony,  "  had  n't  you  better  go  back  and  sit 
in  the  coach  till  yer  introduced  ?  I  'm  going 
in,"  and  he  pushed  open  the  door  of  the 
building. 

A  long  room  lighted  only  by  the  embers 
of  a  fire  that  was  dying  on  the  large  hearth 
at  its  farther  extremity  ;  the  walls  curiously 
papered,  and  the  flickering  firelight  bringing 
out  its  grotesque  pattern  ;  somebody  sitting 
in  a  large  arm-chair  by  the  fireplace.  All 
this  we  saw  as  we  crowded  together  into  the 
room,  after  the  driver  and  expressman. 

"  Hello  !  be  you  Higgles  ?  "  said  Yuba 
Bill  to  the  solitary  occupant. 

The  figure  neither  spoke  nor  stirred. 
Yuba  Bill  walked  wrathf ully  toward  it,  and 
turned  the  eye  of  his  coach-lantern  upon  its 
face.  It  was  a  man's  face,  prematurely  old 
and  wrinkled,  with  very  large  eyes,  in  which 
there  was  that  expression  of  perfectly  gra 
tuitous  solemnity  which  I  had  sometimes 
seen  in  an  owl's.  The  large  eyes  wandered 


106  HIGGLES. 

from  Bill's  face  to  the  lantern,  and  finally 
fixed  their  gaze  on  that  luminous  object, 
without  further  recognition. 

Bill  restrained  himself  with  an  effort. 

"Higgles!  Be  you  deaf?  You  ain't 
dumb,  anyhow,  you  know?"  and  Yuba  Bill 
shook  the  insensate  figure  by  the  shoulder. 

To  our  great  dismay,  as  Bill  removed  his 
hand,  the  venerable  stranger  apparently  col 
lapsed,  —  sinking  into  half  his  size  and  an 
undistinguishable  heap  of  clothing. 

"  Well,  dern  my  skin ! "  said  Bill,  look 
ing  appealingly  at  us,  and  hopelessly  retir 
ing  from  the  contest. 

The  Judge  now  stepped  forward,  and  we 
lifted  the  mysterious  invertebrate  back  into 
his  original  position.  Bill  was  dismissed 
with  the  lantern  to  reconnoitre  outside,  for  it 
was  evident  that  from  the  helplessness  of  this 
solitary  man  there  must  be  attendants  near 
at  hand,  and  we  all  drew  around  the  fire. 
The  Judge,  who  had  regained  his  authority, 
and  had  never  lost  his  conversational  amia 
bility,  —  standing  before  us  with  his  back 
to  the  hearth,  —  charged  us,  as  an  imaginary 
jury,  as  follows  :  — 

"  It  is  evident  that  either  our  distinguished 
friend  here  has  reached  that  condition  de- 


HIGGLES.  107 

scribed  by  Shakespeare  as  'the  sere  and 
yellow  leaf,'  or  has  suffered  some  premature 
abatement  of  his  mental  and  physical  facul 
ties.  Whether  he  is  really  the  Miggles  "  — 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  "  Miggles ! 
O  Miggles !  Migglesy !  Mig !  "  and  in  fact 
the  whole  chorus  of  Miggles  in  very  much 
the  same  key  as  it  had  once  before  been  de 
livered  unto  us. 

We  gazed  at  each  other  for  a  moment 
in  some  alarm.  The  Judge,  in  particular, 
vacated  his  position  quickly,  as  the  voice 
seemed  to  come  directly  over  his  shoulder. 
The  cause,  however,  was  soon  discovered  in 
a  large  magpie  who  was  perched  upon  a 
shelf  over  the  fireplace,  and  who  immedi 
ately  relapsed  into  a  sepulchral  silence,  which 
contrasted  singularly  with  his  previous  volu 
bility.  It  was  undoubtedly  his  voice  which 
we  had  heard  in  the  road,  and  our  -friend  in 
the  chair  was  not  responsible  for  the  discour 
tesy.  Yuba  Bill,  who  re  entered  the  room 
after  an  unsuccessful  search,  was  loath  to 
accept  the  explanation,  and  still  eyed  the 
helpless  sitter  with  suspicion.  He  had  found 
a  shed  in  which  he  had  put  up  his  horses, 
but  came  back  dripping  and  skeptical. 
u  Thar  ain't  nobody  but  him  within  ten  mile 


108  HIGGLES. 

of  the  shanty,  and  that  'ar  d — d  old  skee- 
sicks  knows  it." 

But  the  faith  of  the  majority  proved  to 
be  securely  based.  Bill  had  scarcely  ceased 
growling  before  we  heard  a  quick  step  upon 
the  porch,  the  trailing  of  a  wet  skirt,  the 
door  was  flung  open,  and  with  a  flash  of 
white  teeth,  a  sparkle  of  dark  eyes,  and  an 
utter  absence  of  ceremony  or  diffidence,  a 
young  woman  entered,  shut  the  door,  and, 
panting,  leaned  back  against  it. 

"  Oh,  if  you  please,  I  'm  Higgles !  " 

And  this  was  Miggles  !  this  bright-eyed, 
full-throated  young  woman,  whose  wet  gown 
of  coarse  blue  stuff  could  not  hide  the  beauty 
of  the  feminine  curves  to  which  it  clung ; 
from  the  chestnut  crown  of  whose  head, 
topped  by  a  man's  oil-skin  sou'wester,  to  the 
little  feet  and  ankles,  hidden  somewhere  in 
the  recesses  of  her  boy's  brogans,  all  was 
grace  ;  — this  was  Miggles,  laughing  at  us, 
too,  in  the  most  airy,  frank,  off-hand  manner 
imaginable. 

"You  see,  boys,"  said  she,  quite  out  of 
breath,  and  holding  one  little  hand  against 
her  side,  quite  unheeding  the  speechless  dis 
comfiture  of  our  party,  or  the  complete  de 
moralization  of  Yuba  Bill,  whose  features 


HIGGLES.  A  109 

had  relaxed  into  an  expression  of  gratuitous 
and  imbecile  cheerfulness,  —  "  you  see,  boys, 
I  was  mor'n  two  miles  away  when  you  passed 
clown  the  road.  I  thought  you  might  pull 
up  here,  and  so  I  ran  the  whole  way,  know 
ing  nobody  was  home  but  Jim,  —  and  — 
and  —  I  'm  out  of  breath  —  and  —  that  lets 
me  out." 

And  here  Higgles  caught  her  dripping 
.  oil-skin  hat  from  her  head,  with  a  mischiev 
ous  swirl  that  scattered  a  shower  of  rain 
drops  over  us ;  attempted  to  put  back  her 
hair ;  dropped  two  hair-pains  in  the  at 
tempt  ;  laughed,  and  sat  down  beside  Yuba 
Bill,  with  her  hands  crossed  lightly  on  her 
lap. 

The  Judge  recovered  himself  first,  and  es 
sayed  an  extravagant  compliment. 

"  I  '11  trouble  you  for  that  har-pin,"  said 
Miggles,  gravely.  Half  a  dozen  hands  were 
eagerly  stretched  forward  ;  the  missing  hair 
pin  was  restored  to  its  fair  owner ;  and 
Miggles,  crossing  the  room,  looked  keenly 
in  the  face  of  the  invalid.  The  solemn  eyes 
looked  back  at  hers  with  an  expression  we 
had  never  seen  before.  Life  and  intelli 
gence  seemed  to  struggle  back  into  the  rug 
ged  face.  Miggles  laughed  again,  —  it  was 


110  HIGGLES. 

a  singularly  eloquent  laugh,  —  and  turned 
her  black  eyes  and  white  teeth  once  more  to 
wards  us. 

"  This  afflicted  person  is  "  —  hesitated  the 
Judge. 

"  Jim !  "  said  Higgles. 

"  Your  father  ?  " 

"No." 

"Brother?" 

"  No." 

"Husband?" 

Miggles  darted  a  quick,  half  -  defiant 
glance  at  the  two  lady  passengers,  who  I  had 
noticed  did  not  participate  in  the  general 
masculine  admiration  of  Miggles,  and  said, 
gravely,  "  No  ;  it  's  Jim." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause.  The  lady 
passengers  moved  closer  to  each  other ;  the 
Washoe  husband  looked  abstractedly  at  the 
fire  ;  and  the  tall  man  apparently  turned  his 
eyes  inward  for  self-support  at  this  emer 
gency.  But  Higgles' s  laugh,  which  was 
very  infectious,  broke  the  silence.  "  Come," 
she  said  briskly,  "  you  must  be  hungry. 
Who  '11  bear  a  hand  to  help  me  get  tea  ?  " 

She  had  no  lack  of  volunteers.  In  a  few 
moments  Yuba  Bill  was  engaged  like  Cali 
ban  in  bearing  logs  for  this  Miranda ;  the 


HIGGLES.  Ill 

expressman  was  grinding  coffee  on  the  ve 
randa  ;  to  myself  the  arduous  duty  of  slicing 
bacon  was  assigned;  and  the  Judge  lent 
each  man  his  good-humored  and  voluble 
counsel.  And  when  Miggles,  assisted  by 
the  Judge  and  our  Hibernian  "  deck  passen 
ger,"  set  the  table  with  all  the  available 
crockery,  we  had  become  quite  joyous,  in 
spite  of  the  rain  that  beat  .against  windows, 
the  wind  that  whirled  down  the  chimney, 
the  two  ladies  who  whispered  together  in 
the  corner,  or  the  magpie  who  uttered  a  sa 
tirical  and  croaking  commentary  on  their 
conversation  from  his  perch  above.  In  the 
now  bright,  blazing  fire  we  could  see  that 
the  walls  were  papered  with  illustrated  jour 
nals,  arranged  with  feminine  taste  and  dis 
crimination.  The  furniture  was  extempo 
rized  and  adapted  from  candle-boxes  and 
packing-cases,  and  covered  with  gay  calico 
or  the  skin  of  some  animal.  The  arm 
chair  of  the  helpless  Jim  was  an  ingenious 
variation  of  a  flour-barrel.  There  was  neat 
ness,  and  even  a  taste  for  the  picturesque, 
to  be  seen  in  the  few  details  <af  the  long,  low 
room. 

The   meal  was   a   culinary  success.     But 
more,  it  was  a  social  triumph,  —  chiefly,  I 


112  HIGGLES. 

think,  owing  to  the  rare  tact  of  Miggles  in 
guiding  the  conversation,  asking  all  the 
questions  herself,  yet  bearing  throughout  a 
frankness  that  rejected  the  idea  of  any  con 
cealment  on  her  own  part ;  so  that  we  talked 
of  ourselves,  of  our  prospects,  of  the  journey, 
of  the  weather,  of  each  other,  —  of  every 
thing  but  our  host  and  hostess.  It  must  be 
confessed  that  Miggles's  conversation  was 
never  elegant,  rarely  grammatical,  and  that 
at  times  she  employed  expletives  the  use  of 
which  had  generally  been  yielded  to  our  sex. 
But  they  were  delivered  with  such  a  lighting 
up  of  teeth  and  eyes,  and  were  usually  fol 
lowed  by  a  laugh  —  a  laugh  peculiar  to  Mig 
gles  —  so  frank  and  honest  that  it  seemed 
to  clear  the  moral  atmosphere. 

Once  during  the  meal  we  heard  a  noise 
like  the  rubbing  of  a  heavy  body  against 
the  outer  walls  of  the  house.  This  was 
shortly  followed  by  a  scratching  and  snif 
fling  at  the  door.  "  That 's  Joaquin,"  said 
Miggles,  in  reply  to  our  questioning  glances ; 
"  would  you  like  to  see  him  ?  "  Before  we 
could  answer  she  had  opened  the  door,  and 
disclosed  a  half-grown  grizzly,  who  instantly 
raised  himself  on  his  haunches,  with  his 
fore-paws  hanging  down  in  the  popular  at- 


HIGGLES.  113 

titude  of  mendicancy,  and  looking  admir 
ingly  at  Higgles,  with  a  very  singular  resem 
blance  in  his  manner  to  Yuba  Bill.  "  That 's 
my  watch-dog,"  said  Higgles,  in  explana 
tion.  "  Oh,  he  don't  bite,"  she  added,  as  the 
two  lady  passengers  fluttered  into  a  corner. 
"Does  he,  old  Toppy?"  (the  latter  remark 
being  addressed  directly  to  the  sagacious 
Joaquin).  "I  tell  you  wljat,  boys,"  contin 
ued  Higgles,  after  she  had  fed  and  closed 
the  door  on  Ursa  Minor,  "  you  were  in  big 
luck  that  Joaquin  was  n't  hanging  round 
when  you  dropped  in  to-night."  "Where 
was  he  ?  "  asked  the  Judge.  "  With  me," 
said  Higgles.  "  Lord  love  you !  he  trots 
round  with  me  nights  like  as  if  he  was  a 
man." 

We  were  silent  for  a  few  moments,  and 
listened  to  the  wind.  Perhaps  we  all  had 
the  same  picture  before  us,  —  of  Higgles 
walking  through  the  rainy  woods,  with  her 
savage  guardian  at  her  side.  The  Judge,  I 
remember,  said  something  about  Una  and 
her  lion;  but  Higgles  received  it,  as  she 
did  other  compliments,  with  quiet  gravity. 
Whether  she  was  altogether  unconscious  of 
the  admiration  she  excited,  —  she  could 
hardly  have  been  oblivious  of  Yuba  Bill's 


114  M1GGLES. 

adoration,  —  I  know  not ;  but  her  very  frank 
ness  suggested  a  perfect  sexual  equality  that 
was  cruelly  humiliating  to  the  younger  mem 
bers  of  our  party. 

The  incident  of  the  bear  did  not  add  any 
thing  in  Miggles's  favor  to  the  opinions  of 
those  of  her  own  sex  who  were  present.  In 
fact,  the  repast  over,  a  chillness  radiated 
from  the  two  lady  passengers  that  no  pine- 
boughs  brought  in  by  Yuba  Bill  and  cast  as 
a  sacrifice  upon  the  hearth  could  wholly 
overcome.  Higgles  felt  it ;  and  suddenly 
declaring  that  it  was  time  to  "  turn  in," 
offered  to  show  the  ladies  to  their  bed  in  an 
adjoining  room.  "You,  boys,  will  have  to 
camp  out  here  by  the  fire  as  well  as  you 
can,"  she  added,  "  for  thar  ain't  but  the  one 
room." 

Our  sex  —  by  which,  my  dear  sir,  I  allude 
of  course  to  the  stronger  portion  of  human 
ity  —  has  been  generally  relieved  from  the 
imputation  of  curiosity,  or  a  fondness  for 
gossip.  Yet  I  am  constrained  to  say  that 
hardly  had  the  door  closed  on  Higgles  than 
we  crowded  together,  whispering,  snickering, 
smiling,  and  exchanging  suspicions,  sur 
mises,  and  a  thousand  speculations  in  regard 
to  our  pretty  hostess  and  her  singular  com- 


HIGGLES.  115 

panion.  I  fear  that  we  even  hustled  that 
imbecile  paralytic,  who  sat  like  a  voiceless 
Memnon  in  our  midst,  gazing  with  the  serene 
indifference  of  the  Past  in  his  passionless 
eyes  upon  our  wordy  counsels.  In  the  midst 
of  an  exciting  discussion  the  door  opened 
again  and  Miggles  re  entered. 

But  not,  apparently,  the  same  Miggles 
who  a  few  hours  before  had -flashed  upon  usc 
Her  eyes  were  downcast,  and  as  she  hesi 
tated  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold,  with  a 
blanket  on  her  arm,  she  seemed  to  have  left 
behind  her  the  frank  fearlessness  which  had 
charmed  us  a  moment  before.  Coming  into 
the  room,  she  drew  a  low  stool  beside  the 
paralytic's  chair,  sat  down,  drew  the  blan 
ket  over  her  shoulders,  and  saying,  "  If  it 's 
all  the  same  to  you,  boys,  as  we  're  rather 
crowded,  I  '11  stop  here  to-night,"  took  the 
invalid's  withered  hand  in  her  own,  and 
turned  her  eyes  upon  the  dying  fire.  An 
instinctive  feeling  that  this  was  only  pre 
monitory  to  more  confidential  relations,  and 
perhaps  some  shame  at  our  previous  curios 
ity,  kept  us  silent.  The  rain  still  beat  upon 
the  roof,  wandering  gusts  of  wind  stirred 
the  embers  into  momentary  brightness,  until, 
in  a  lull  of  the  elements,  Miggles  suddenly 


116  MIGGLES. 

lifted  up  her  head,  and,  throwing  her  hair 
over  her  shoulder,  turned  her  face  upon  the 
group  and  asked,  — 

"  Is  there  any  of  you  that  knows  me  ?  " 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  Think  again  !  I  lived  at  Marysville  in 
'53.  Everybody  knew  me  there,  and  every 
body  had  the  right  to  know  me.  I  kept  the 
Polka  Saloon  until  I  came  to  live  with 
Jim.  That 's  six  years  ago.  Perhaps  I  've 
changed  some." 

The  absence  of  recognition  may  have  dis 
concerted  her.  She  turned  her  head  to  the 
fire  again,  and  it  was  some  seconds  before 
she  again  spoke,  and  then  more  rapidly :  — 

"Well,  you  see  I  thought  some  of  you 
must  have  known  me.  There 's  no  great 
harm  done,  any  way.  What  I  was  going  to 
say  was  this :  Jim  here  "  —  she  took  his 
hand  in  both  of  hers  as  she  spoke  —  "  used 
to  know  me,  if  you  didn't,  and  spent  a  heap 
of  money  upon  me.  I  reckon  he  spent  all  he 
had.  And  one  day  —  it 's  six  years  ago  this 
winter  —  Jim  came  into  my  back  room,  sat 
down  on  my  sofy,  like  as  you  see  him  in 
that  chair,  and  never  moved  again  without 
help.  He  was  struck  all  of  a  heap,  and 
never  seemed  to  know  what  ailed  him.  The 


HIGGLES.  117 

doctors  came  and  said  as  how  it  was  caused 
all  along  of  his  way  of  life,  —  for  Jim  was 
mighty  free  and  wild  like,  —  and  that  he 
would  never  get  better,  and  could  n't  last 
long  any  way.  They  advised  me  to  send 
him  to  Frisco  to  the  hospital,  for  he  was  no 
good  to  any  one  and  would  be  a  baby  all  his 
life.  Perhaps  it  was  something  in  Jim's  eye, 
perhaps  it  was  that  I  never  had  a  baby,  but 
I  said  '  No.'  I  was  rich  then,  for  I  was  pop 
ular  with  everybody,  —  gentlemen  like  your 
self,  sir,  came  to  see  me,  —  and  I  sold  out 
my  business  and  bought  this  yer  place,  be 
cause  it  was  sort  of  out  of  the  way  of  travel, 
you  see,  and  I  brought  my  baby  here." 

With  a  woman's  intuitive  tact  and  poetry, 
she  had,  as  she  spoke,  slowly  shifted  her  po 
sition  so  as  to  bring  the  mute  figure  of  the 
ruined  man  between  her  and  her  audience, 
hiding  in  the  shadow  behind  it,  as  if  she  of 
fered  it  as  a  tacit  apology  for  her  actions. 
Silent  and  expressionless,  it  yet  spoke  for 
her ;  helpless,  crushed,  and  smitten  with  the 
Divine  thunderbolt,  it  still  stretched  an  in 
visible  arm  around  her. 

Hidden  in  the  darkness,  but  still  holding 
his  hand,  she  went  on :  — 

"  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  could  get 


{18  HIGGLES. 

the  hang  of  things  about  yer,  for  I  was  used 
to  company  and  excitement.  I  could  n't  get 
any  woman  to  help  me,  and  a  man  I  dursn't 
trust ;  but  what  with  the  Indians  hereabout, 
who  'd  do  odd  jobs  for  me,  and  having  every 
thing  sent  from  the  North  Fork,  Jim  and  I 
managed  to  worry  through.  The  Doctor 
would  run  up  from  Sacramento  once  in  a 
while.  He  'd  ask  to  see  '  Miggles's  baby,' 
as  he  called  Jim,  and  when  he  'd  go  away 
he  'd  say,  '  Miggles,  you  're  a  trump,  — 
God  bless  you ! '  and  it  did  n't  seem  so 
lonely  after  that.  But  the  last  time  he  was 
here  he  said,  as  he  opened  the  door  to  go, 
'  Do  you  know,  Miggles,  your  baby  will  grow 
up  to  be  a  man  yet  and  an  honor  to  his 
mother ;  but  not  here,  Miggles,  not  here  ! ' 
And  I  thought  he  went  away  sad,  —  and  — 
and  "  —  and  here  Miggles's  voice  and  head 
were  somehow  both  lost  completely  in  the 
shadow. 

"  The  folks  about  here  are  very  kind," 
said  Miggles,  after  a  pause,  coming  a  little 
into  the  light  again.  "The  men  from  the 
fork  used  to  hang  around  here,  until  they 
found  they  was  n't  wanted,  and  the  women 
are  kind,  —  and  don't  call.  I  was  pretty 
lonely  until  I  picked  up  Joaquin  in  the  woods 


HIGGLES.  119 

yonder  one  day,  when  he  was  n't  so  high, 
and  taught  him  to  beg  for  his  dinner ;  and 
then  thar  's  Polly  —  that  's  the  magpie  — 
she  knows  no  end  of  tricks,  and  makes  it 
quite  sociable  of  evenings  with  her  talk,  and 
so  I  don't  feel  like  as  I  was  the  only  living 
being  about  the  ranch.  And  Jim  here,"  said 
Miggles,  with  her  old  laugh  again,  and  com 
ing  quite  out  into  the  firelight,  "  Jim  —  why, 
boys,  you  would  admire  to  see  how  much  he 
knows  for  a  man  like  him.  Sometimes  I 
bring  him  flowers,  and  he  looks  at  'em  just 
as  natural  as  if  he  knew  'em ;  and  times, 
when  we  're  sitting  alone,  I  read  him  those 
things  on  the  wall.  Why,  Lord  !  "  said  Mig 
gles,  with  her  frank  laugh,  "  I  've  read  him 
that  whole  side  of  the  house  this  winter. 
There  never  was  such  a  man  for  reading  as 
Jim." 

"  Why,"  asked  the  Judge,  "  do  you  not 
marry  this  man  to  whom  you  have  devoted 
your  youthful  life  ?  " 

41  Well,  you  see,"  said  Miggles,  "  it  would 
be  playing  it  rather  low  down  on  Jim  to 
take  advantage  of  his  being  so  helpless.  And 
then,  too,  if  we  were  man  and  wife,  now, 
we  'd  both  know  that  I  was  bound  to  do 
what  I  do  now  of  my  own  accord." 


120  MIGGLES. 

"  But  you  are  young  yet  and  attrac 
tive  "  — 

"  It 's  getting  late,"  said  Higgles,  gravely, 
"  and  you  'd  better  all  turn  in.  Good-night, 
boys  ;  "  and,  throwing  the  blanket  over  her 
head,  Miggles  laid  herself  down  beside  Jim's 
chair,  her  head  pillowed  on  the  low  stool  that 
held  his  feet,  and  spoke  no  more.  The  fire 
slowly  faded  from  the  hearth;  we  each 
sought  our  blankets  in  silence  ;  and  pres 
ently  there  was  no  sound  in  the  long  room 
but  the  pattering  of  the  rain  upon  the  roof, 
and  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  sleepers. 

It  was  nearly  morning  when  I  awoke  from 
a  troubled  dream.  The  storm  had  passed, 
the  stars  were  shining,  and  through  the  shut- 
terless  window  the  full  moon,  lifting  itself 
over  the  solemn  pines  without,  looked  into 
the  room.  It  touched  the  lonely  figure  in 
the  chair  with  an  infinite  compassion,  and 
seemed  to  baptize  with  a  shining  flood  the 
lowly  head  of  the  woman  whose  hair,  as  ir 
the  sweet  old  story,  bathed  the  feet  of  him 
she  loved.  It  even  lent  a  kindly  poetry  to 
the  rugged  outline  of  Yuba  Bill,  half  re 
clining  on  his  elbow  between  them  and  his 
passengers,  with  savagely  patient  eyes  keep 
ing  watch  and  ward.  And  then  I  fell  asleep, 


HIGGLES.  121 

and  only  woke  at  broad  day,  with  Yuba  Bill 
standing  over  me,  and  "  All  aboard  "  ring 
ing  in  my  ears. 

Coffee  was  waiting  for  us  on  the  table,  but 
Miggles  was  gone.     We  wandered  about  the 
house   and   lingered   long   after  the  horses 
were  harnessed,  but  she  did  not  return.     It 
was  evident  that  she  wished  to  avoid  a  for 
mal  leave-taking,  and  had  so  left  us  to  de 
part  as  we  had  come.     After  we  had  helped 
the  ladies  into  the  coach,  we  returned  to  the 
house  and  solemnly  shook  hands  with  the 
paralytic  Jim,  as  solemnly  settling  him  back 
into  position  after  each  hand-shake.     Then 
we  looked  for  the  last  time  around  the  long, 
low  room,  at  the  stool  where  Miggles  had 
sat,  and  slowly  took  our  seats  in  the  waiting 
coach.     The  whip  cracked,  and  we  were  off ! 
But  as  we   reached  the   highroad,  Bill's 
dexterous  hand  laid  the  six  horses  back  on 
their  haunches,  and  the  stage  stopped  with  a 
jerk.     For  there,  on  a  little  eminence  beside 
the  road,  stood  Miggles,  her  hair  flying,  her 
eyes  sparkling,  her  white  handkerchief  wav 
ing,    and   her    white    teeth   flashing   a   last 
"  good-by."     We  waved  our  hats  in  return. 
And  then  Yuba  Bill,   as  if  fearful  of  fur 
ther  fascination,  madly  lashed  his  horses  for- 


122  HIGGLES. 

ward,  and  we  sank  back  in  our  seats.  We 
exchanged  not  a  word  until  we  reached 
the  North  Fork,  and  the  stage  drew  up  at 
the  Independence  House.  Then,  the  Judge 
leading,  we  walked  into  the  bar-room  and 
took  our  places  gravely  at  the  bar. 

44  Are  your  glasses  charged,  gentlemen  ?  " 
said  the  Judge,  solemnly  taking  off  his  white 
hat. 

They  were. 

"  Well,  then,  here  's  to  Miggles,  —  GOD 

BLESS  HER !  " 

Perhaps  He  had.     Who  knows  ? 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

I  DO  not  think  that  we  ever  knew  his  real 
name.  Our  ignorance  of  it  certainly  never 
gave  us  any  social  inconvenience,  for  at 
Sandy  Bar  in  1854  most  men  were  chris 
tened  anew.  Sometimes  these  appellatives 
were  derived  from  some  distinctiveness  of 
dress,  as  in  the  case  of  "  Dungaree  Jack ;  " 
or  from  some  peculiarity  of  habit,  as  shown 
in  "  Saleratus  Bill,"  so  called  from  an  undue 
proportion  of  that  chemical  in  his  daily 
bread ;  or  from  some  unlucky  slip,  as  exhib 
ited  in  "  The  Iron  Pirate,"  a  mild,  inoffen 
sive  man,  who  earned  that  baleful  title  by 
his  unfortunate  mispronunciation  of  the  term 
"  iron  pyrites."  Perhaps  this  may  have  been 
the  beginning  of  a  rude  heraldry  ;  but  I  am 
constrained  to  think  that  it  was  because  a 
man's  real  name  in  that  day  rested  solely 
upon  his  own  unsupported  statement.  "  Call 
yourself  Clifford,  do  you  ?  "  said  Boston,  ad 
dressing  a  timid  new-comer  with  infinite 


124  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

scorn  ;  "  hell  is  full  of  such  Cliffords  !  "  He 
then  introduced  the  unfortunate  man,  whose 
name  happened  to  be  really  Clifford,  as 
"  Jaybird  Charley,"  —  an  unhallowed  in 
spiration  of  the  moment  that  clung  to  him 
ever  after. 

But  to  return  to  Tennessee's  Partner, 
whom  we  never  knew  by  any  other  than 
this  relative  title  ;  that  he  had  ever  existed 
as  a  separate  and  distinct  individuality  we 
only  learned  later.  It  seems  that  in  1853 
he  left  Poker  Flat  to  go  to  San  Francisco, 
ostensibly  to  procure  a  wife.  He  never  got 
any  farther  than  Stockton.  At  that  place 
he  was  attracted  by  a  young  person  who 
waited  upon  the  table  at  the  hotel  where  he 
took  his  meals.  One  morning  he  said  some 
thing  to  her  which  caused  her  to  smile  not 
unkindly,  to  somewhat  coquettishly  break  a 
plate  of  toast  over  his  upturned,  serious, 
simple  face,  and  to  retreat  to  the  kitchen. 
He  followed  her,  and  emerged  a  few  mo 
ments  later,  covered  with  more  toast  and 
victory.  That  day  week  they  were  married 
by  a  Justice  of  the  Peace,  and  returned  to 
Poker  Flat.  I  am  aware  that  something 
more  might  be  made  of  this  episode,  but  I 
prefer  to  tell  it  as  it  was  current  at  Sandy 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  125 

Bar,  —  in  the  gulches  and  bar  -  rooms,  — 
where  all  sentiment  was  modified  by  a  strong 
sense  of  humor. 

Of  their  married  felicity  but  little  is 
known,  perhaps  for  the  reason  that  Ten 
nessee,  then  living  with  his  partner,  one  day 
took  occasion  to  say  something  to  the  bride 
on  his  own  account,  at  which,  it  is  said,  she 
smiled  not  unkindly  and  chastely  retreated, 
—  this  time  as  far  as  Marysville,  where  Ten 
nessee  followed  her,  and  where  they  went 
to  housekeeping  without  the  aid  of  a  Jus 
tice  of  the  Peace.  Tennessee's  Partner  took 
the  loss  of  his  wife  simply  and  seriously,  as 
was  his  fashion.  But  to  everybody's  sur 
prise,  when  Tennessee  one  day  returned  from 
Marysville,  without  his  partner's  wife,  • — 
she  having  smiled  and  retreated  with  some 
body  else,  —  Tennessee's  Partner  was  the 
first  man  to  shake  his  hand  and  greet  him 
with  affection.  The  boys  who  had  gathered  in 
the  canon  to  see  the  shooting  were  naturally 
indignant.  Their  indignation  might  have 
found  vent  in  sarcasm  but  for  a  certain  look 
in  Tennessee's  Partner's  eye  that  indicated 
a  lack  of  humorous  appreciation.  In  fact, 
he  was  a  grave  man,  with  a  steady  applica 
tion  to  practical  detail  which  was  unpleasant 
in  a  difficulty. 


126  TENNESSEE'S   PARTNER. 

Meanwhile  a  popular  feeling  against  Ten 
nessee  had  grown  up  on  the  Bar.  He  was 
known  to  be  a  gambler ;  he  was  suspected 
to  be  a  thief.  In  these  suspicions  Tennes 
see's  Partner  was  equally  compromised  ; 
his  continued  intimacy  with  Tennessee  after 
the  affair  above  quoted  could  only  be  ac 
counted  for  on  the  hypothesis  of  a  copart 
nership  of  crime.  At  last  Tennessee's  guilt 
became  flagrant.  One  day  he  overtook  a 
stranger  on  his  way  to  Red  Dog.  The 
stranger  afterward  related  that  Tennessee 
beguiled  the  time  with  interesting  anecdote 
and  reminiscence,  but  illogically  concluded 
the  interview  in  the  following  words  :  "  And 
now,  young  man,  I  '11  trouble  you  for  your 
knife,  your  pistols,  and  your  money.  You 
see  your  weppings  might  get  you  into  trouble 
at  Red  Dog,  and  your  money  's  a  temptation 
to  the  evilly  disposed.  I  think  you  said 
your  address  was  San  Francisco.  I  shall 
endeavor  to  call."  It  may  be  stated  here 
that  Tennessee  had  a  fine  flow  of  humor, 
which  no  business  preoccupation  could  wholly 
subdue. 

This  exploit  was  his  last.  Red  Dog  and 
Sandy  Bar  made  common  cause  against  the 
highwayman.  Tennessee  was  hunted  in  v^rv 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  12? 

much  the  same  fashion  as  his  prototype,  the 
grizzly.  As  the  toils  closed  around  him, 
he  made  a  desperate  dash  through  the  Bar, 
emptying  his  revolver  at  the  crowd  before 
the  Arcade  Saloon,  and  so  on  up  Grizzly 
Canon ;  but  at  its  farther  extremity  he  was 
stopped  by  a  small  man  on  a  gray  horse. 
The  men  looked  at  each  other  a  moment  in 
silence.  Both  were  fearless,  both  self-pos 
sessed  and  independent,  and  both  types  of 
a  civilization  that  in  the  seventeenth  century 
would  have  been  called  heroic,  but  in  the 
nineteenth  simply  "reckless."  "What  have 
you  got  there  ?  —  I  call,"  said  Tennessee, 
quietly.  "  Two  bowers  and  an  ace,"  said 
the  stranger,  as  quietly,  showing  two  revol 
vers  and  a  bowie-knife.  "  That  takes  me," 
returned  Tennessee  ;  and,  with  this  gambler's 
epigram,  he  threw  away  his  useless  pistol, 
and  rode  back  with  his  captor. 

It  was  a  warm  night.  The  cool  breeze 
which  usually  sprang  up  with  the  going  down 
of  the  sun  behind  the  chaparral-crested 
mountain  was  that  evening  withheld  from 
Sandy  Bar.  The  little  canon  was  stifling 
with  heated  resinous  odors,  and  the  decaying 
driftwood  on  the  Bar  sent  forth  faint,  sick- 


128  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

ening  exhalations.  The  feverishness  of  day 
and  its  fierce  passions  still  filled  the  camp. 
Lights  moved  restlessly  along  the  bank  of 
the  river,  striking  no  answering  reflection 
from  its  tawny  current.  Against  the  black 
ness  of  the  pines  the  windows  of  the  old  loft 
above  the  express-office  stood  out  staringly 
bright ;  and  through  their  curtainless  panes 
the  loungers  below  could  see  the  forms  of 
those  who  were  even  then  deciding  the  fate 
of  Tennessee.  And  above  all  this,  etched 
on  the  dark  firmament,  rose  the  Sierra,  re 
mote  and  passionless,  crowned  with  remoter 
passionless  stars. 

The  trial  of  Tennessee  was  conducted  as 
fairly  as  was  consistent  with  a  judge  and 
jury  who  felt  themselves  to  some  extent 
obliged  to  justify,  in  their  verdict,  the  pre 
vious  irregularities  of  arrest  and  indictment. 
The  law  of  Sandy  Bar  was  implacable,  but 
not  vengeful.  The  excitement  and  personal 
feeling  of  the  chase  were  over ;  with  Tennes 
see  safe  in  their  hands  they  were  ready  to  lis 
ten  patiently  to  any  defence,  which  they  were 
already  satisfied  was  insufficient.  There  be 
ing  no  doubt  in  their  own  minds,  they  were 
willing  to  give  the  prisoner  the  benefit  of 
any  that  might  exist.  Secure  in  the  hypoth- 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  129 

esis  that  he  ought  to  be  hanged,  on  gen 
eral  principles,  they  indulged  him  with  more 
latitude  of  defence  than  his  reckless  hardi 
hood  seemed  to  ask.  The  Judge  appeared 
to  be  more  anxious  than  the  prisoner,  who, 
otherwise  unconcerned,  evidently  took  a  grim 
pleasure  in  the  responsibility  he  had  created. 
"  I  don't  take  any  hand  in  this  yer  game," 
had  been  his  invariable  but  good-humored, 
reply  to  all  questions.  The  Judge  —  who 
was  also  his  captor  —  for  a  moment  vaguely 
regretted  that  he  had  not  shot  him  "  or: 
sight,"  that  morning,  but  presently  dismissed 
this  human  weakness  as  unworthy  of  the 
judicial  mind.  Nevertheless,  when  there  was 
a  tap  at  the  door,  and  it  was  said  that  Ten 
nessee's  Partner  was  there  on  behalf  of  the 
prisoner,  he  was  admitted  at  once  without 
question.  Perhaps  the  younger  members  of 
the  jury,  to  whom  the  proceedings  were  be 
coming  irksomely  thoughtful,  hailed  him  as 
a  relief. 

For  he  was  not,  certainly,  an  imposing 
figure.  Short  and  stout,  with  a  square  face, 
sunburned  into  a  preternatural  redness,  clad 
in  a  loose  duck  "  jumper  "  and  trousers 
streaked  and  splashed  with  red  soil,  his  aspect 
under  any  circumstances  would  have  been 


130  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

quaint,  and  was  now  even  ridiculous.]  As  he 
stooped  to  deposit  at  his  feet  a  heavy  car 
pet-bag  he  was  carrying,  it  became  obvious, 
from  partially  developed  legends  and  in 
scriptions,  that  the  material  with  which  his 
trousers  had  been  patched  had  been  orig 
inally  intended  for  a  less  ambitious  covering. 
Yet  he  advanced  with  great  gravity,  and 
after  shaking  the  hand  of  each  person  in  the 
room  with  labored  cordiality,  he  wiped  his 
serious,  perplexed  face  on  a  red  bandanna 
handkerchief,  a  shade  lighter  than  his  com 
plexion,  laid  his  powerful  hand  upon  the 
table  to  steady  himself,  and  thus  addressed 
the  Judge :  — 

"  I  was  passin'  by,"  he  began,  by  way  of 
apology,  "and  I  thought  I  'd  just  step  in  and 
see  how  things  was  gittin'  on  with  Tennessee 
thar,  —  my  pardner.  It 's  a  hot  night.  I 
disremember  any  sich  weather  before  on  the 
Bar." 

He  paused  a  moment,  but  nobody  volun 
teering  any  other  meteorological  recollection, 
he  again  had  recourse  to  his  pocket-hand 
kerchief,  and  for  some  moments  mopped  his 
face  diligently. 

"  Have  you  anything  to  say  on  behalf  of 
the  prisoner?  "  said  the  Judge,  finally- 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  131 

"Thet's  it,"  said  Tennessee's  Partner,  in 
a  tone  of  relief.  "  I  come  yar  as  Tennessee's 
pardner,  —  knowing  him  nigh  on  four  year, 
off  and  on,  wet  and  dry,  in  luck  and  out  o' 
luck.  His  ways  ain't  allers  my  ways,  but 
thar  ain't  any  p'ints  in  that  young  man,  thar 
ain't  any  liveliness  as  he  's  been  up  to,  as  I 
don't  know.  And  you  sez  to  me,  sez  you,  — 
confidential-like,  and  between  man  and  man, 
—  sez  you,  4Do  you  know  anything  in  his 
behalf  ? '  and  I  sez  to  you,  sez  I,  —  confiden 
tial-like,  as  between  man  and  man,  — '  What 
should  a  man  know  of  his  pardner  ? ' ' 

"Is  this  all  you  have  to  say?"  asked  the 
Judge  impatiently,  feeling,  perhaps,  that  a 
dangerous  sympathy  of  humor  was  beginning 
to  humanize  the  court. 

"  Thet  's  so,"  continued  Tennessee's  Part 
ner.  "  It  ain't  for  me  to  say  anything  agin' 
him.  And  now,  what 's  the  case  ?  Here  's 
Tennessee  wants  money,  wants  it  bad,  and 
does  n't  like  to  ask  it  of  his  old  pardner. 
Well,  what  does  Tennessee  do  ?  He  lays  for 
a  stranger,  and  he  fetches  that  stranger; 
and  you  lays  for  him,  and  you  fetches  him  ; 
and  the  honors  is  easy.  And  I  put  it  to 
you,  bein'  a  far-minded  man,  and  to  you, 
gentlemen  all,  as  far-minded  men,  ef  this 
is  n't  so." 


132  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

"  Prisoner,"  said  the  Judge,  interrupting, 
"have  you  any  questions  to  ask  this  man?  " 

"  No !  no !  "  continued  Tennessee's  Part 
ner  hastily.  "I  play  this  yer  hand  alone. 
To  come  down  to  the  bed-rock,  it 's  just 
this:  Tennessee,  thar,  has  played  it  pretty 
rough  and  expensive-like  on  a  stranger,  and 
on  this  yer  camp.  And  now,  what 's  the 
fair  thing  ?  Some  would  say  more ;  some 
would  say  less.  Here  's  seventeen  hundred 
dollars  in  coarse  gold  and  a  watch,  —  it 's 
about  all  my  pile,  —  and  call  it  square  !^1| 
And  before  a  hand  could  be  raised  to  pre 
vent  him,  he  had  emptied  the  contents  of 
the  carpet-bag  upon  the  table. 

For  a  moment  his  life  was  in  jeopardy. 
One  or  two  men  sprang  to  their  feet,  several 
hands  groped  for  hidden  weapons,  and  a 
suggestion  to  "throw  him  from  the  window" 
was  only  overridden  by  a  gesture  from  the 
Judge.  Tennessee  laughed.  And  appar 
ently  oblivious  of  the  excitement,  Tennes 
see's  Partner  improved  the  opportunity  to 
mop  his  face  again  with  his  handkerchief. 

When  order  was  restored,  and  the  man 
was  made  to  understand,  by  the  use  of  for 
cible  figures  and  rhetoric,  that  Tennessee's 
offence  could  not  be  condoned  by  money,  his 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  133 

face  took  a  more  serious  and  sanguinary 
hue,  and  those  who  were  nearest  to  him  no 
ticed  that  his  rough  hand  trembled  slightly 
on  the  table.  He  hesitated  a  moment  as 
he  slowly  returned  the  gold  to  the  carpet, 
bag,  as  if  he  had  not  yet  entirely  caught  the 
elevated  sense  of  justice  which  swayed  the 
tribunal,  and  was  perplexed  with  the  belief 
that  he  had  not  offered  enough.  Then  he 
turned  to  the  Judge,  and  saying,  "  This  yer 
is  a  lone  hand,  played  alone,  and  without 
my  pardner,"  he  bowed  to  the  jury  and  was 
about  to  withdraw,  when  the  Judge  called 
him  back.  "  If  you  have  anything  to  say  to 
Tennessee,  you  had  better  say  it  now."  For 
the  first  .time  that  evening  the  eyes  of  the 
prisoner  and  his  strange  advocate  met.  Ten 
nessee  smiled,  showed  his  white  teeth,  and 
saying,  "  Euchred,  old  man !  "  held  out  his 
hand.  Tennessee's  Partner  took  it  in  his 
own,  and  saying,  "I  just  dropped  in  as  I 
was  passin'  to  see  how  things  was  gettin' 
on,"  let  the  hand  passively  fall,  and  adding 
that  "  it  was  a  warm  night,"  again  mopped 
his  face  with  his  handkerchief,  and  without 
another  word  withdrew. 

The  two  men  never  again  met  each  other 
alive.     For  the  unparalleled  insult  of  a  bribe 


134  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

offered  to  Judge  Lynch  —  who,  whether 
bigoted,  weak,  or  narrow,  was  at  least  incor 
ruptible  —  firmly  fixed  in  the  mind  of  that 
mythical  personage  any  wavering  determina 
tion  of  Tennessee's  fate;  and  at  the  break 
of  day  he  was  marched,  closely  guarded,  to 
meet  it  at  the  top  of  Marley's  Hill. 

How  he  met  it,  how  cool  he  was,  how  he 
refused  to  say  anything,  how  perfect  were 
the  arrangements  of  the  committee,  were  all 
duly  reported,  with  the  addition  of  a  warn 
ing  moral  and  example  to  all  future  evil 
doers,  in  the  Red  Dog  Clarion,  by  its  edi 
tor,  who  was  present,  and  to  whose  vigorous 
English  I  cheerfully  refer  the  reader.  But 
the  beauty  of  that  midsummer  morning,  the 
blessed  amity  of  earth  and  air  and  sky,  the 
awakened  life  of  the  free  woods  and  hills, 
the  joyous  renewal  and  promise  of  Nature, 
and,  above  all,  the  infinite  serenity  that 
thrilled  through  each,  was  not  reported,  as 
not  being  a  part  of  the  social  lesson.  And 
yet,  when  the  weak  and  foolish  deed  was 
done,  and  a  life,  with  its  possibilities  and  re 
sponsibilities,  had  passed  out  of  the  missha 
pen  thing  that  dangled  between  earth  and 
sky,  the  birds  sang,  the  flowers  bloomed,  the 
un  shone,  as  cheerily  as  before ;  and  possi 
bly  the  Red  Dog  Clarion  was  right. 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  135 

Tennessee's  Partner  was  not  in  the  group 
that  surrounded  the  ominous  tree.  But  as 
they  turned  to  disperse,  attention  was  drawn 
to  the  singular  appearance  of  a  motionless 
donkey-cart  halted  at  the  side  of  the  road. 
As  they  approached,  they  at  once  recognized 
the  venerable  Jenny  and  the  two -wheeled 
cart  as  the  property  of  Tennessee's  Partner, 
—  used  by  him  in  carrying  dirt  from  his 
claim ;  and  a  few  paces  distant  the  owner  of 
the  equipage  himself,  sitting  under  a  buck 
eye  tree,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his 
glowing  face.  In  answer  to  an  inquiry, 
he  said  he  had  come  for  the  body  of  the 
^'diseased,"  "if  it  was  all  the  same  to  the 
committee."  He  did  n't  wish  to  "hurry  any 
thing;"  he  could  wait.  He  was  not  work 
ing  that  day  ;  and  when  the  gentlemen  were 
done  with  the  "  diseased  "  he  would  take  him. 
V-  Ef  thar  is  any  present,"  he  added,  in  his 
simple,  serious  way,  "  as  would  care  to  jine 
in  the  fun'l,  they  kin  come."  Perhaps  it 
was  from  a  sense  of  humor,  which  I  have 
already  intimated  was  a  feature  of  Sandy 
Bar,  —  perhaps  it  was  from  something  even 
better  than  that ;  but  two  thirds  of  the  loun 
gers  accepted  the  invitation  at  once. 

It  was  noon  when  the  body  of  Tennessee 


136  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

was  delivered  into  the  hands  of  his  partner. 
As  the  cart  drew  up  to  the  fatal  tree,  we 
noticed  that  it  contained  a  rough  oblong  box, 
—  apparently  made  from  a  section  of  sluic 
ing,  —  and  half  filled  with  bark  and  the  tas 
sels  of  pine.  The  cart  was  further  decorated 
with  slips  of  willow,  and  made  fragrant  with 
buckeye-blossoms.  When  the  body  was  de 
posited  in  the  box,  Tennessee's  Partner  drew 
over  it  a  piece  of  tarred  canvas,  and  gravely 
mounting  the  narrow  seat  in  front,  with  his 
feet  upon  the  shafts,  urged  the  little  don 
key  forward.  The  equipage  moved  slowly 
on,  at  that  decorous  pace  which  was  habit 
ual  with  Jenny  even  under  less  solemn  cir 
cumstances.  The  men  —  half  curiously,  half 
jestingly,  but  all  good-humoredly  —  strolled 
along  beside  the  cart ;  some  in  advance, 
some  a  little  in  the  rear,  of  the  homely  cat- 
afalque.  But,  whether  from  the  narrowing 
of  the  road  or  some  present  sense  of  deco- 
N  rum,  as  the  cart  passed  on,  the  company  fell 
to  the  rear  in  couples,  keeping  step,  and 
otherwise  assuming  the  external  show  of  a 
formal  procession.  Jack  Folinsbee,  who  had 
at  the  outset  played  a  funeral  march  in 
dumb  show  upon  an  imaginary  trombone, 
desisted,  from  a  lack  of  sympathy  and  appre< 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  137 

elation,  —  not  having,  perhaps,  your  true 
humorist's  capacity  to  be  content  with  the 
enjoyment  of  his  own  fun. 

The  way  led  through  Grizzly^  Canon,  by 
this  time  clothed  in  funereal  drapery  and 
shadows.  The  redwoods,  burying  their  moc- 
casined  feet  in  the  red  soil,  stood  in  Indian- 
file  along  the  track,  trailing  an  uncouth  ben 
ediction  from  their  bending  boughs  upon  the 
passing  bier.  A  hare,  surprised  into  help 
less  inactivity,  sat  upright  and  pulsating  in 
the  ferns  by  the  roadside,  as  the  cortege 
went  by.  Squirrels  hastened  to  gain  a  se 
cure  outlook  from  higher  boughs;  and  the 
blue-jays,  spreading  their  wings,  fluttered 
before  them  like  outriders,  until  the  outskirts 
of  Sandy  Bar  were  reached,  and  the  solitary 
cabin  of  Tennessee's  Partner. 

Viewed  under  more  favorable  circum 
stances,  it  would  not  have  been  a  cheerful 
place.  The  unpicturesque  site,  the  rude  and 
unlovely  outlines,  the  unsavory  details,  which 
distinguish  the  nest-building  of  the  Califor 
nia  miner,  were  all  here,  with  the  dreariness 
of  decay  superadded.  A  few  paces  from  the 
cabin  there  was  a  rough  enclosure,  which,  in 
the  brief  days  of  Tennessee's  Partner's  mat 
rimonial  felicity,  had  been  used  as  a  garden, 


138  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

but  was  now  overgrown  with  fern.     As  we 
approached  it  we  were  surprised  to  find  that  • 
what  we  had  taken  for  a  recent  attempt  at 
cultivation   was   the  broken   soil   about   an 
open  grave. 

The  cart  was  halted  before  the  enclosure  ; 
and  rejecting  the  offers  of  assistance  with 
the  same  air  of  simple  self-reliance  he  had 
displayed  throughout,  Tennessee's  Partner 
lifted  the  rough  coffin  on  his  back,  and  de 
posited  it  unaided,  within  the  shallow  grave. 
He  then  nailed  down  the  board  which  served 
as  a  lid,  and  mounting  the  little  mound  of 
earth  beside  it,  took  off  his  hat,  and  slowly 
mopped  his  face  with  his  handkerchief. 
This  the  crowd  felt  was  a  preliminary  to 
speech;  and  they  disposed  themselves  vari 
ously  on  stumps  and  boulders,  and  sat  ex 
pectant. 

"  When  a  man,"  began  Tennessee's  Part 
ner  slowly,  "  has  been  running  free  all  day, 
what  's  the  natural  thing  for  him  to  do  ? 
Why,  to  come  home.  And  if  he  ain't  in 
a  condition  to  go  home,  what  can  his  best 
friend  do  ?  Why,  bring  him  home  !  And 
here  's  Tennessee  has  been  running  free,  and 
we  brings  him  home  from  his  wandering." 
He  paused,  and  picked  up  a  fragment  of 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  139 

quartz,  rubbed  it  thoughtfully  on  his  sleeve, 
and  went  on :  "  It  ain't  the  first  time  that 
I  've  packed  him  on  my  back,  as  you  see'd 
me  now.  It  ain't  the  first  time  that  I 
brought  him  to  this  yer  cabin  when  he  could 
n't  help  himself  ;  it  ain't  the  first  time  that  I 
and  Jinny  have  waited  for  him  on  yon  hjll, 
and  picked  him  up  and  so  fetched  him  home, 
when  he  could  n't  speak,  and  did  n't  know 
me.  And  now  that  it 's  the  last  time,  why  " 
—  he  paused,  and  rubbed  the  quartz  gently 
on  his  sleeve  —  "  you  see  it  's  sort  of  rough 
on  his  pardner.  And  now,  gentlemen,"  he 
added  abruptly,  picking  up  his  long-handled 
shovel,  "  the  fun'l  's  over  ;  and  my  thanks, 
and  Tennessee's  thanks,  to  you  for  your 
trouble." 

Resisting  any  proffers  of  assistance,  he  be 
gan  to  fill  in  the  grave,  turning  his  back 
upon  the  crowd,  that  after  a  few  moments' 
hesitation  gradually  withdrew.  As  they 
crossed  the  little  ridge  that  hid  Sandy  Bar 
from  view,  some,  looking  back,  thought  they 
could  see  Tennessee's  Partner,  his  work 
done,  sitting  upon  the  grave,  his  shovel  be 
tween  his  knees,  and  his  face  buried  in  his 
red  bandanna  handkerchief.  But  it  was 
argued  by  others  that  you  could  n't  tell  his 


140  TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER. 

face  from  his  handkerchief  at  that  distance ; 
and  this  point  remained  undecided. 

In  the  reaction  that  followed  the  feverish 
excitement  of  that  day,  Tennessee's  Partner 
was  not  forgotten.  A  secret  investigation 
had  cleared  him  of  any  complicity  in  Ten 
nessee's  guilt,  and  left  only  a  suspicion  of 
his  general  sanity.  Sandy  Bar  made  a  point 
of  calling  on  him,  and  proffering  various  un 
couth  but  well-meant  kindnesses.  But  from 
that  day  his  rude  health  and  great  strength 
seemed  visibly  to  decline ;  and  when  the 
rainy  season  fairly  set  in,  and  the  tiny  grass- 
blades  were  beginning  to  peep  from  the 
rocky  mound  above  Tennessee's  grave,  he 
took  to  his  bed. 

One  night,  when  the  pines  beside  the 
cabin  were  swaying  in  the  storm,  and  trail 
ing  their  slender  fingers  over  the  roof,  and 
the  roar  and  rush  of  the  swollen  river  were 
heard  below,  Tennessee's  Partner  lifted  his 
head  from  the  pillow,  saying,  "  It  is  time 
to  go  for  Tennessee  ;  I  must  put  Jinny  in 
the  cart;"  and  would  have  risen  from  his 
bed  but  for  the  restraint  of  his  attendant. 
Struggling,  he  still  pursued  his  singular  fan' 
ey  :  "  There,  now,  steady,  Jinny,  —  steady, 


TENNESSEE'S  PARTNER.  141 

old  girl.  How  dark  it  is  I  Look  out  for 
the  ruts,  —  and  look  out  for  him,  too,  old 
gal.  Sometimes,  you  know,  when  he  's  blind 
drunk,  he  drops  down  right  in  the  trail. 
Keep  on  straight  up  to  the  pine  on  the  top 
of  the  hill.  Thar  !  I  told  you  so  !  —  thar  he 
is,  —  coming  this  way,  too,  —  all  by  himself, 
sober,  and  his  face  a-shining.  Tennessee! 
Pardner !  " 

And  so  they  met. 


THE  IDYL  OF  RED   GULCH. 


SANDY  was  very  drunk.  He  was  lying 
under  an  azalea  bush,  in  pretty  much  the 
same  attitude  in  which  he  had  fallen  some 
hours  before.  How  long  he  had  been  lying 
there  he  could  not  tell,  and  did  n't  care  ;  how 
long  he  should  lie  there  was  a  matter  equal 
ly  indefinite  and  unconsidered.  A  tranquil 
philosophy,  born  of  his  physical  condition, 
suffused  and  saturated  his  moral  being. 

The  spectacle  of  a  drunken  man,  and  of 
this  drunken  man  in  particular,  was  not,  I 
grieve  to  say,  of  sufficient  novelty  in  Red 
Gulch  to  attract  attention.  Earlier  in  the 
day  some  local  satirist  had  erected  a  tempo 
rary  tombstone  at  Sandy's  head,  bearing  the 
inscription,  "  Effects  of  McCorkle's  whiskey, 
—  kills  at  forty  rods,"  with  a  hand  pointing 
to  McCorkle's  saloon.  But  this,  I  imagine, 
was,  like  most  local  satire,  personal ;  and 
was  a  reflection  upon  the  unfairness  of  the 
process  rather  than  a  commentary  upon  the 


THE  IDYL  OF  RED  GULCH.     143 

impropriety  of  the  result.  With  this  face- 
tious  exception,  Sandy  had  been  undisturbed. 
A  wandering  mule,  released  from  his  pack, 
had  cropped  the  scant  herbage  beside  him, 
and  sniffed  curiously  at  the  prostrate  man ; 
a  vagabond  dog,  with  that  deep  sympathy 
which  the  species  have  for  drunken  men, 
had  licked  his  dusty  boots,  and  curled  him 
self  up  at  his  feet,  and  lay  there,  blinking 
one  eye  in  the  sunlight,  with  a  simulation  of 
dissipation  that  was  ingenious  and  dog-like 
in  its  implied  flattery  of  the  unconscious 
man  beside  him. 

Meanwhile  the  shadows  of  the  pine-trees 
had  slowly  swung  around  until  they  crossed 
the  road,  and  their  trunks  barred  the  open 
meadow  with  gigantic  parallels  of  black  and 
yellow.  Little  puffs  of  red  dust,  lifted  by 
the  plunging  hoofs  of  passing  teams,  dis 
persed  in  a  grimy  shower  upon  the  recum 
bent  man.  The  sun  sank  lower  and  lower, 
and  still  Sandy  stirred  not.  And  then  the 
repose  of  this  philosopher  was  disturbed,  as 
other  philosophers  have  been,  by  the  intru 
sion  of  an  unphilosophical  sex. 

"  Miss  Mary,"  as  she  was  known  to  the 
little  flock  that  she  had  just  dismissed  from 
the  log  schoolhouse  beyond  the  pines,  was 


144  THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH. 

taking  her  afternoon  walk.  Observing  an 
unusually  fine  cluster  of  blossoms  on  the 
azalea  bush  opposite,  she  crossed  the  road  to 
pluck  it,  picking  her  way  through  the  red 
dust,  not  without  certain  fierce  little  shivers 
of  disgust  and  some  feline  circumlocution. 
And  then  she  came  suddenly  upon  Sandy  ! 

Of  course  she  uttered  the  little  staccato 
cry  of  her  sex.  But  when  she  had  paid  that 
tribute  to  her  physical  weakness  she  became 
overbold,  and  halted  for  a  moment,  —  at 
least  six  feet  from  this  prostrate  monster,  — 
with  her  white  skirts  gathered  in  her  hand, 
ready  for  flight.  But  neither  sound  nor  mo 
tion  came  from  the  bush.  With  one  little 
foot  she  then  overturned  the  satirical  head 
board,  and  muttered  "Beasts!"  — an  epithet 
which  probably,  at  that  moment,  conven 
iently  classified  in  her  mind  the  entire  male 
population  of  Eed  Gulch.  For  Miss  Mary, 
being  possessed  of  certain  rigid  notions  of 
her  own,  had  not,  perhaps,  properly  appre 
ciated  the  demonstrative  gallantry  for  which 
the  Calif ornian  has  been  so  justly  celebrated 
by  his  brother  Californians,  and  had,  as  a 
new-comer,  perhaps  fairly  earned  the  repu 
tation  of  being  "  stuck  up." 

As  she  stood  there  she  noticed,  also,  that 


TEE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH.  145 

the  slant  sunbeams  were  heating  Sandy's 
head  to  what  she  judged  to  be  an  unhealthy 
temperature,  and  that  his  hat  was  lying  use 
lessly  at  his  side.  To  pick  it  up  and  to 
place  it  over  his  face  was  a  work  requiring 
some  courage,  particularly  as  his  eyes  were 
open.  Yet  she  did  it  and  made  good  her  re 
treat.  But  she  was  somewhat  concerned,  on 
looking  back,  to  see  that  the  hat  was  re 
moved,  and  that  Sandy  was  sitting  up  and 
saying  something. 

The  truth  was,  that  in  the  calm  depths  of 
Sandy's  mind  he  was  satisfied  that  the  rays 
of  the  sun  were  beneficial  and  healthful; 
that  from  childhood  he  had  objected  to  lying 
down  in  a  hat ;  that  no  people  but  con 
demned  fools,  past  redemption,  ever  wore 
hats;  and  that  his  right  to  dispense  with 
them  when  he  pleased  was  inalienable.  This 
was  the  statement  of  his  inner  conscious 
ness.  Unfortunately,  its  outward  expression 
was  vague,  being  limited  to  a  repetition  of 
the  following  formula  :  "  Su' shine  all  ri'  I 
Wasser  maar,  eh  ?  Wass  up,  su' shine  ?  " 

Miss  Mary  stopped,  and,  taking  fresh 
courage  from  her  vantage  of  distance,  asked 
him  if  there  was  anything  that  he  wanted. 

"Wass  up?  Wasser  maar ?"  continued 
Sandy,  in  a  very  high  key. 


146  THE  IDYL   OF  RED  GULCH. 

"  Get  up,  you  horrid  man ! "  said  Miss 
Mary,  now  thoroughly  incensed ;  "  get  up, 
and  go  home." 

Sandy  staggered  to  his  feet.  He  was  six 
feet  high,  and  Miss  Mary  trembled.  He 
started  forward  a  few  paces,  and  then 
stopped. 

"  Wass  I  go  home  for  ? "  he  suddenly 
asked,  with  great  gravity. 

"  Go  and  take  a  bath,"  replied  Miss 
Mary,  eying  his  grimy  person  with  great 
disfavor. 

To  her  infinite  dismay,  Sandy  suddenly 
pulled  off  his  coat  and  vest,  threw  them  on 
the  ground,  kicked  off  his  boots,  and,  plung 
ing  wildly  forward,  darted  headlong  over  the 
hill,  in  the  direction  of  the  river. 

"  Goodness  Heavens  !  —  the  man  will  be 
drowned !  "  said  Miss  Mary ;  and  then,  with 
feminine  inconsistency,  she  ran  back  to  the 
schoolhouse,  and  locked  herself  in. 

That  night,  while  seated  at  supper  with 
her  hostess,  the  blacksmith's  wife,  it  came  to 
Miss  Mary  to  ask,  demurely,  if  her  husband 
ever  got  drunk.  "  Abner,"  responded  Mrs. 
Stidger,  reflectively,  "  let 's  see !  Abner  has 
n't  been  tight  since  last  'lection."  Miss 
Mary  would  have  liked  to  ask  if  he  pre- 


THE  IDYL  OF  RED  GULCH.     147 

ferred  lying  in  the  sun  on  these  occasions, 
and  if  a  cold  bath  would  have  hurt  him ; 
but  this  would  have  involved  an  explana 
tion,  which  she  did  not  then  care  to  give. 
So  she  contented  herself  with  opening  her 
gray  eyes  widely  at  the  red-cheeked  Mrs. 
Stidger,  —  a  fine  specimen  of  Southwestern 
efflorescence,  —  and  then  dismissed  the  sub 
ject  altogether.  The  next  day  she  wrote  to 
her  dearest  friend,  in  Boston :  "  I  think  I 
find  the  intoxicated  portion  of  this  commu 
nity  the  least  objectionable.  I  refer,  my 
dear,  to  the  men,  of  course.  I  do  not  know 
anything  that  could  make  the  women  toler 
able." 

In  less  than  a  week  Miss  Mary  had  for 
gotten  this  episode,  except  that  her  after 
noon  walks  took  thereafter,  almost  uncon 
sciously,  another  direction.  She  noticed, 
however,  that  every  morning  a  fresh  clus 
ter  of  azalea  blossoms  appeared  among  the 
flowers  on  her  desk.  This  was  not  strange, 
as  her  little  flock  were  aware  of  her  fond 
ness  for  flowers,  and  invariably  kept  her 
desk  bright  with  anemones,  syringas,  and 
lupines ;  but  on  questioning  them  they  one 
and  all  professed  ignorance  of  the  azaleas. 
A  few  days  later,  Master  Johnny  Stidger, 


148  THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH. 

whose  desk  was  nearest  to  the  window,  was 
suddenly  taken  with  spasms  of  apparently 
gratuitous  laughter,  that  threatened  the  dis 
cipline  of  the  school.  All  that  Miss  Mary 
could  get  from  him  was  that  some  one  had 
been  "looking  in  the  winder."  Irate  and 
indignant,  she  sallied  from  her  hive  to  do 
battle  with  the  intruder.  As  she  turned  the 
corner  of  the  schoolhouse  she  came  plump 
upon  the  quondam  drunkard,  now  perfectly 
sober,  and  inexpressibly  sheepish  and  guilty- 
looking. 

These  facts  Miss  Mary  was  not  slow  to 
take  u  feminine  advantage  of,  in  her  present 
humor.  But  it  was  somewhat  confusing  to 
observe,  also,  that  the  beast,  despite  some 
faint  signs  of  past  dissipation,  was  amiable- 
looking,  —  in  fact,  a  kind  of  blonde  Samson, 
whose  corn-colored  silken  beard  apparently 
had  never  yet  known  the  touch  of  barber's 
razor  or  Delilah's  shears.  So  that  the  cut 
ting  speech  which  quivered  on  her  ready 
tongue  died  upon  her  lips,  and  she  contented 
herself  with  receiving  his  stammering  apol 
ogy  with  supercilious  eyelids  and  the  gath 
ered  skirts  of  uncontamination.  When  she 
re  entered  the  schoolroom,  her  eyes  fell  upon 
the  azaleas  with  a  new  sense  of  revelation. 


THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH.  149 

And  then  she  laughed,  and  the  little  people 
all  laughed,  and  they  were  all  unconsciously 
very  happy. 

It  was  on  a  hot  day  —  and  not  long  after 
this  —  that  two  short-legged  boys  came  to 
grief  on  the  threshold  of  the  school  with  a 
pail  of  water,  which  they  had  laboriously 
brought  from  the  spring,  and  that  Miss 
Mary  compassionately  seized  the  pail  and 
started  for  the  spring  herself.  At  the  foot 
of  the  hill  a  shadow  crossed  her  path,  and  a 
blue-shirted  arm  dexterously  but  gently  re 
lieved  her  of  her  burden.  Miss  Mary  was 
both  embarrassed  and  angry.  "  If  you  carried 
more  of  that  for  yourself,"  she  said  spite 
fully,  to  the  blue  arm,  without  deigning  to 
raise  her  lashes  to  its  owner,  "  you  'd  do 
better."  In  the  submissive  silence  that  fol 
lowed  she  regretted  the  speech,  and  thanked 
him  so  sweetly  at  the  door  that  he  stumbled. 
Which  caused  the  children  to  laugh  again, 
—  a  laugh  in  which  Miss  Mary  joined,  until 
the  color  came  faintly  into  her  pale  cheek. 
The  next  day  a  barrel  was  mysteriously 
placed  beside  the  door,  and  as  mysteriously 
filled  with  fresh  spring-water  every  morning. 

Nor  was  this  superior  young  person  with 
out  other  quiet  attentions.  "  Profane  Bill," 


150  THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH. 

driver  of  the  Slumgullion  Stage,  widely 
known  in  the  newspapers  for  his  "  gal 
lantry  "  in  invariably  offering  the  box-seat 
to  the  fair  sex,  had  excepted  Miss  Mary 
from  this  attention,  on  the  ground  that  he 
had  a  habit  of  "  cussin'  on  up  grades,"  and 
gave  her  half  the  coach  to  herself.  Jack 
Hamlin,  a  gambler,  having  once  silently 
ridden  with  her  in  the  same  coach,  after 
ward  threw  a  decanter  at  the  head  of  a  con 
federate  for  mentioning  her  name  in  a  bar 
room.  The  over-dressed  mother  of  a  pupil 
whose  paternity  was  doubtful  had  often  lin 
gered  near  this  astute  Vestal's  temple,  never 
daring  to  enter  its  sacred  precincts,  but  con 
tent  to  worship  the  priestess  from  afar. 

With  such  unconscious  intervals  the  mo 
notonous  procession  of  blue  skies,  glittering 
sunshine,  brief  twilights,  and  starlit  nights 
passed  over  Red  Gulch.  Miss  Mary  grew 
fond  of  walking  in  the  sedate  and  proper 
woods.  Perhaps  she  believed,  with  Mrs. 
Stidger,  that  the  balsamic  odors  of  the  firs 
"  did  her  chest  good,"  for  certainly  her 
slight  cough  was  less  frequent  and  her  step 
was  firmer ;  perhaps  she  had  learned  the 
unending  lesson  which  the  patient  pines  are 
never  weary  of  repeating  to  heedful  or  list- 


THE  IDYL  OF  RED  GULCH.     151 

less  ears.  And  so,  one  day,  she  planned  a 
picnic  on  Buckeye  Hill,  and  took  the  chil 
dren  with  her.  Away  from  the  dusty  road, 
the  straggling  shanties,  the  yellow  ditches, 
the  clamor  of  restless  engines,  the  cheap 
finery  of  shop-windows,  the  deeper  glitter  of 
paint  and  colored  glass,  and  the  thin  veneer 
ing  which  barbarism  takes  upon  itself  in  such 
localities,  —  what  infinite  relief  was  theirs ! 
The  last  heap  of  ragged  rock  and  clay 
passed,  the  last  unsightly  chasm  crossed,  — 
how  the  waiting  woods  opened  their  long 
files  to  receive  them  !  Plow  the  children  — 
perhaps  because  they  had  not  yet  grown 
quite  away  from  the  breast  of  the  bounteous 
Mother  —  threw  themselves  face  downward 
on  her  brown  bosom  with  uncouth  caresses, 
filling  the  air  with  their  laughter ;  and  how 
Miss  Mary  herself  —  felinely  fastidious  and 
intrenched  as  she  was  in  the  purity  of  spot 
less  skirts,  collar,  and  cuffs  —  forgot  all,  and 
ran  like  a  crested  quail  at  the  head  of  her 
brood,  until  romping,  laughing,  and  pant 
ing,  with  a  loosened  braid  of  brown  hair,  a 
hat  hanging  by  a  knotted  ribbon  from  her 
throat,  she  came  suddenly  and  violently,  in 
the  heart  of  the  forest,  upon  the  luckless 
Sandy ! 


152  THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH. 

The  explanations,  apologies,  and  not  over- 
wise  conversation  that  ensued  need  not  be 
indicated  here.  It  would  seein,  however, 
that  Miss  Mary  had  already  established 
some  acquaintance  with  this  ex-drunkard. 
Enough  that  he  was  soon  accepted  as  one 
of  the  party;  that  the  children,  with  that 
quick  intelligence  which  Providence  gives 
the  helpless,  recognized  a  friend,  and  played 
with  his  blonde  beard  and  long  silken  mus 
tache,  and  took  other  liberties,  —  as  the 
helpless  are  apt  to  do.  And  when  he  had 
built  a  fire  against  a  tree,  and  had  shown 
them  other  mysteries  of  woodcraft,  their 
admiration  knew  no  bounds.  At  the  close 
of  two  such  foolish,  idle,  happy  hours  he. 
found  himself  lying  at  the  feet  of  the  school 
mistress,  gazing  dreamily  in  her  face,  as 
she  sat  upon  the  sloping  hillside,  weaving 
wreaths  of  laurel  and  syringa,  in  very  much 
the  same  attitude  as  he  had  lain  when  first 
they  met.  Nor  was  the  similitude  greatly 
forced.  The  weakness  of  an  easy,  sensuous 
nature,  that  had  found  a  dreamy  exaltation 
in  liquor,  it  is  to  be  feared  was  now  finding 
an  equal  intoxication  in  love. 

I  think  that  Sandy  was  dimly  conscious 
of  this  himself.  I  know  that  he  longed  to 


THE  IDYL  OF  RED  GULCH.      153 

be  doing  something,  --  slaying  a  grizzly, 
scalping  a  savage,  or  sacrificing  himself  in 
some  way  for  the  sake  of  this  sallow-faced, 
gray-eyed  schoolmistress.  As  I  should  like 
to  present  him  in  a  heroic  attitude,  I  stay 
my  hand  with  great  difficulty  at  this  mo 
ment,  being  only  withheld  from  introducing 
such  an  episode  by  a  strong  conviction  that 
it  does  not  usually  occur  at  such  times. 
And  I  trust  that  my  fairest  reader,  who  re 
members  that,  in  a  real  crisis,  it  is  always 
some  uninteresting  stranger  or  unromantic 
policeman,  and  not  Adolphus,  who  rescues, 
will  forgive  the  omission. 

So  they  sat  there,  undisturbed,  the  wood 
peckers  chattering  overhead,  and  the  voices 
of  the  children  coming  pleasantly  from  the 
hollow  below.     What  they  said  matters  lit 
tle.      What    they   thought  —  which   might 
have  been  interesting  —  did  not  transpire. 
The    woodpeckers   only   learned   how   Miss 
Mary   was    an   orphan;   how   she   left   her 
uncle's   house,   to   come  to   California,   for 
the  sake  of  health  and  independence  ;  how 
Sandy  was  an  orphan,  too  ;  how  he  came  to 
California  for  excitement ;  how  he  had  lived 
a  wild   life,  and  how   he  was  trying  to  re 
form  ;   and   other   details,   which,    from    a 


154  THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH. 

woodpecker's  view-point,  undoubtedly  must 
have  seemed  stupid  and  a  waste  of  time. 
But  even  in  such  trifles  was  the  afternoon 
spent ;  and  when  the  children  were  again 
gathered,  and  Sandy,  with  a  delicacy  which 
the  schoolmistress  well  understood,  took 
leave  of  them  quietly  at  the  outskirts  of  the 
settlement,  it  had  seemed  the  shortest  day 
of  her  weary  life. 

As  the  long,  dry  summer  withered  to  its 
roots,  the  school  term  of  Eed  Gulch  —  to 
use  a  local  euphuism  —  "  dried  up  "  also. 
In  another  day  Miss  Mary  would  be  free  ; 
and  for  a  season,  at  least,  Red  Gulch  would 
know  her  no  more.  She  was  seated  alone 
in  the  schoolhouse,  her  cheek  resting  on 
her  hand,  her  eyes  half  closed  in  one  of 
those  day-dreams  in  which  Miss  Mary,  I 
fear,  to  the  danger  of  school  discipline,  was 
lately  in  the  habit  of  indulging.  Her  lap 
was  full  of  mosses,  ferns,  and  other  wood 
land  memories.  She  was  so  preoccupied 
with  these  and  her  own  thoughts  that  a 
gentle  tapping  at  the  door  passed  unheard, 
or  translated  itself  into  the  remembrance 
of  far-off  woodpeckers.  When  at  last  it 
asserted  itself  more  distinctly,  she  started 
up  with  a  flushed  cheek  and  opened  the 


THE  IDYL  OF  RED   GULCH.  155 

door..  On  the  threshold  stood  a  woman,  the 
self-assertion  and  audacity  of  whose  dress 
were  in  singular  contrast  to  her  timid,  ir 
resolute  bearing. 

Miss  Mary  recognized  at  a  glance  the 
dubious  mother  of  her  anonymous  pupil. 
Perhaps  she  was  disappointed,  perhaps  she 
was  only  fastidious;  but  as  she  coldly  in 
vited  her  to  enter,  she  half  unconsciously 
settled  her  white  cuffs  and  collar,  and 
gathered  closer  her  own  chaste  skirts.  It 
was,  perhaps,  for  this  reason  that  the  em 
barrassed  stranger,  after  a  moment's  hesi 
tation,  left  her  gorgeous  parasol  open  and 
sticking  in  the  dust  beside  the  door,  and 
then  sat  down  at  the  farther  end  of  a  long 
bench.  Her  voice  was  husky  as  she  be 
gan  :— 

"  I  heerd  tell  that  you  were  goin'  down  to 
the  Bay  to-morrow,  and  I  couldn't  let  you 
go  until  I  came  to  thank  you  for  your  kind 
ness  to  my  Tommy." 

Tommy,  Miss  Mary  said,  was  a  good  boy, 
and  deserved  more  than  the  poor  attention 
she  could  give  him. 

"  Thank  you,  miss ;  thank  ye  !  "  cried  the 
stranger,  brightening  even  through  the  color 
which  Red  Gulch  knew  facetiously  as  her 


156  THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH. 

"  war  paint,"  and  striving,  in  her  embarrass 
ment,  to  drag  the  long  bench  nearer  the 
schoolmistress.  "  I  thank  yon,  miss,  for 
that ;  and  if  I  am  his  mother,  there  ain't  a 
sweeter,  dearer,  better  boy  lives  than  him. 
And  if  I  ain't  much  as  says  it,  thar  ain't  a 
sweeter,  dearer,  angeler  teacher  lives  than 
he  's  got." 

Miss  Mary,  sitting  primly  behind  her  desk, 
with  a  ruler  over  her  shoulder,  opened  her 
gray  eyes  widely  at  this,  but  said  nothing. 

"  It  ain't  for  you  to  be  complimented  by 
the  like  of  me,  I  know,"  she  went  on,  hur 
riedly.  "  It  ain't  for  me  to  be  comin'  here, 
in  broad  day,  to  do  it,  either  ;  but  I  come  to 
ask  a  favor,  —  not  for  me,  miss,  —  not  for 
me,  but  for  the  darling  boy." 

Encouraged  by  a  look  in  the  young 
schoolmistress's  eye,  and  putting  her  lilac- 
gloved  hands  together,  the  fingers  down 
ward,  between  her  knees,  she  went  on,  in  a 
low  voice :  — 

"  You  see,  miss,  there  's  no  one  the  boy 
has  any  claim  on  but  me,  and  I  ain't  the 
proper  person  to  bring  him  up.  I  thought 
some,  last  year,  of  sending  him  away  to 
'Frisco  to  school,  but  when  they  talked  of 
bringing  a  schoolma'am  here  I  waited  till  1 


THE  IDYL  OF  RED  GULCH.      157 

saw  you,  and  then  I  knew  it  was  all  right, 
and  I  could  keep  my  boy  a  little  longer. 
And  oh,  miss,  he  loves  you  so  much ;  and  if 
you  could  hear  him  talk  about  you,  in  his 
pretty  way,  and  if  he  could  ask  you  what  I 
ask  you  now,  you  could  n't  refuse  him. 

"  It  is  natural,"  she  went  on  rapidly,  in  a 
voice  that  trembled  strangely  between  pride 
and  humility,  —  "  it 's  natural  that  he  should 
take  to  you,  miss,  for  his  father,  when  I  first 
knew  him,  was  a  gentleman,  —  and  the  boy 
must  forget  me,  sooner  or  later,  —  and  so  I 
ain't  a  goin'  to  cry  about  that.  For  I  come 
to  ask  you  to  take  my  Tommy,  —  God  bless 
him  for  the  bestest,  sweetest  boy  that  lives, 
—  to  —  to  —  take  him  with  you." 

She  had  risen  and  caught  the  young  girl's 
hand  in  her  own,  and  had  fallen  on  her 
knees  beside  her. 

"  I  've  money  plenty,  and  it 's  all  yours 
and  his.  Put  him  in  some  good  school, 
where  you  can  go  and  see  him,  and  help 
him  to  —  to  —  to  forget  his  mother.  Do 
with  him  what  you  like.  The  worst  you  can 
do  will  be  kindness  to  what  he  will  learn 
with  me.  Only  take  him  out  of  this  wicked 
life,  this  cruel  place,  this  home  of  shame 
and  sorrow.  You  will !  I  know  you  will,  — 


158  THE  IDYL  OF  RED   GULCH. 

won't  you  ?  You  will,  —  you  must  not,  you 
cannot  say  no !  You  will  make  him  as  pure, 
as  gentle,  as  yourself ;  and  when  he  has 
grown  up,  you  will  tell  him  his  father's 
name,  —  the  name  that  has  n't  passed  my 
lips  for  years,  —  the  name  of  Alexander 
Morton,  whom  they  call  here  Sandy  !  Miss 
Mary !  —  do  not  take  your  hand  away !  Miss 
Mary,  speak  to  me  !  You  will  take  my  boy  ? 
Do  not  put  your  face  from  me.  I  know  it 
ought  not  to  look  on  such  as  me.  Miss 
Mary! — my  God,  be  merciful!  —  she  is 
leaving  me ! " 

Miss  Mary  had  risen,  and,  in  the  gather 
ing  twilight,  had  felt  her  way  to  the  open 
window.  She  stood  there,  leaning  against 
the  casement,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  last  rosy 
tints  that  were  fading  from  the  western  sky. 
There  was  still  some  of  its  light  on  her  pure 
young  forehead,  on  her  white  collar,  on  her 
clasped  white  hands,  but  all  fading  slowly 
away.  The  suppliant  had  dragged  herself, 
still  on  her  knees,  beside  her. 

"  I  know  it  takes  time  to  consider.  I 
will  wait  here  all  night ;  but  I  cannot  go 
until  you  speak.  Do  not  deny  me  now. 
You  will !  —  I  see  it  in  your  sweet  face,  — 
such  a  face  as  I  have  seen  in  my  dreams. 


THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH.  159 

I  see  it  in  your  eyes,  Miss  Mary !  —  you 
will  take  my  boy  !  " 

The  last  red  beam  crept  higher,  suffused 
Miss  Mary's  eyes  with  something  of  its 
glory,  nickered,  anc(  faded,  and  went  out. 
The  sun  had  set  on  Eed  Gulch.  In  the  twi 
light  and  silence  Miss  Mary's  voice  sounded 
pleasantly. 

"  I  will  take  the  boy.  Send  him  to  me 
to-night." 

The  happy  mother  raised  the  hem  of  Miss 
Mary's  skirts  to  her  lips.  She  would  have 
buried  her  hot  face  in  its  virgin  folds,  but 
she  dared  not.  She  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  Does  —  this  man  —  know  of  your  inten 
tion  ?  "  asked  Miss  Mary  suddenly. 

"  No,  nor  cares.  He  has  never  even  seen 
the  child  to  know  it." 

"Go  to  him  at  once,  —  to-night,  —  now! 
Tell  him  what  you  have  done.  Tell  him  I 
have  taken  his  child,  and  tell  him  —  he  must 
never  see  —  see  —  the  child  again.  Wher 
ever  it  may  be,  he  must  not  come ;  wherever 
I  may  take  it,  he  must  not  follow !  There, 
go  now,  please,  —  I  'm  weary,  and  —  have 
much  yet  to  do !  " 

They  walked  together  to  the  door.  On 
the  threshold  the  woman  turned. 


160  THE  IDYL   OF  RED   GULCH. 

"  Good-night !  " 

She  would  have  fallen  at  Miss  Mary's 
feet.  But  at  the  same  moment  the  young 
girl  reached  out  her  arms,  caught  the  sinful 
woman  to  her  own  pure  breast  for  one  brief 
moment,  and  then  closed  and  locked  the 
door. 

It  was  with  a  sudden  sense  of  great  re 
sponsibility  that  Profane  Bill  took  the  reins 
of  the  Slunigullion  Stage  the  next  morning, 
for  the  schoolmistress  was  one  of  his  passen 
gers.  As  he  entered  the  highroad,  in  obe 
dience  to  a  pleasant  voice  from  the  "  inside," 
he  suddenly  reined  up  his  horses  and  re 
spectfully  waited,  as  "  Tommy  "  hopped  out 
at  the  command  of  Miss  Mary. 

"  Not  that  bush,  Tommy,  —  the  next.'* 

Tommy  whipped  out  his  new  pocket-knife, 
and,  cutting  a  branch  from  a  tall  azalea 
bush,  returned  with  it  to  Miss  Mary. 

"All  right  now?" 

"  All  right !  " 

And  the  stage-door  closed  on  the  Idyl  of 
Red  Gulch. 


HOW   SANTA   GLAUS    CAME  TO 
SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

IT  had  been  raining  in  ;the  valley  of  the 
Sacramento.  (The  North  Fork  had  over 
flowed  its  banks,  and  Rattlesnake  Creek  was 
impassable^  The  few  boulders  that  had 
marked  the  summer  ford  at  Simpson's  Cross 
ing  were  obliterated  by  a  vast  sheet  of 
water  stretching  to  the  foot-hills.  (The  up 
stage  was  stopped  at  Granger's  ;  the  last 
mail  had  been  abandoned  in  the  tules,  the 
rider  swimming  for  his  life.  "An  area," 
remarked  the  Sierra  Avalanche,  with  pen 
sive  local  pride,  "as  large  as  the  State  of 
Massachusetts  is  now  under  water.^ 

Nor  was  the  weather  any  better  in  the 
foot-hills.  (The  mud  lay  deep  on  the  moun 
tain  road ;  wagons  that  neither  physical  force 
nor  moral  objurgation  could  move  from  the 
evil  ways  into  which  they  had  fallen  encum 
bered  the  track*,  and/ the  way  to  Simpson's 
Bar  was  indicated  by  broken-down  teams 


162       SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIAfPSON'S  BAR. 

and  hard  swearing.  (And  farther  on,  cut  off 
and  inaccessible,  rained  upon  and  bedrag 
gled,  smitten  by  high  winds  and  threatened 
by  high  water,  Simpson's  Bar,  on  the  eve  of 
Christmas  Day,  1862,  clung  like  a  swallow's 
nest  to  the  rocky  entablature  and  splintered 
capitals  of  Table  Mountain,  and  shook  in 
the  blast. ) 

As  night  shut  down  on  the  settlement,  a 
few  lights  gleamed  through  the  mist  from 
the  windows  of  cabins  on  either  side  of  the 
highway,  now  crossed  and  gullied  by  lawless 
streams  and  swept  by  marauding  winds. 
Happily  most  of  the  population  were  gath 
ered  at  Thompson's  store,  clustered  around 
a  red-hot  stove,  at  which  they  silently  spat 
in  some  accepted  sense  of  social  communion 
that  perhaps  rendered  conversation  unneces 
sary.  Indeed,  most  methods  of  diversion 
had  long  since  been  exhausted  on  Simpson's 
Bar ;( high  water  had  suspended  the  regular 
occupations  on  gulch  and  on  river,  and  a 
consequent  lack  of  money  and  whiskey  had 
taken  the  zest  from  most  illegitimate  recrea 
tion.  Even  Mr.  Hamlin  was  fain  to  leave 
the  Bar  with  fifty  dollars  in  his  pocket,  — • 
the  only  amount  actually  realized  of  the 
large  sums  won  by  him  in  the  successful 


SANTA  GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.      163 

exercise  of  his  arduous  profession.  "  Ef  I 
was  asked,"  lie  remarked  somewhat  later,  — 
"ef  I  was  asked  to  pint  out  a  purty  little 
village  where  a  retired  sport  as  did  n't  care 
for  money  could  exercise  hisself,  frequent 
and  lively,  I  'd  say  Simpson's  Bar ;  but  for 
a  young  man  with  a  large  family  depending 
on  his  exertions,  it  don't  pay."  As  Mr. 
Hamlin's  family  consisted  mainly  of  female 
adults,  this  remark  is  quoted  rather  to  show 
the  breadth  of  his  humor  than  the  exact 
extent  of  his  responsibilities. 

Howbeit,  the  unconscious  objects  of  this 
satire  sat  that  evening  in  the  listless  apathy 
begotten  of  idleness  and  lack  of  excitement^/ 
Even  the  sudden  splashing  of  hoofs  before 
the  door  did  not  arouse  them.  Dick  Bullen 
alone  paused  in  the  act  of  scraping  out  his 
pipe,  and  lifted  his  head,  but  no  other  one 
of  the  group  indicated  any  interest  in,  or 
recognition  of,  the  man  who  entered. 

It  was  a  figure  familiar  enough  to  the 
company,  and  known  in  Simpson's  Bar  as 
"  The  Old  Man."  A  man  of  perhaps  fifty 
years;  grizzled  and  scant  of  hair,  but  still 
fresh  and  youthful  of  complexion.  A  face 
full  of  ready  but  not  very  powerful  sym- 
'with  a  chameleon-like  aptitude  for 


pathyYwil 


164       SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

taking  on  the  shade  and  color  of  contiguous 
moods  and  feelings.  He  had  evidently  just 
left  some  hilarious  companions,  and  did  not 
at  first  notice  the  gravity  of  the  group,  but 
clapped  the  shoulder  of  the  nearest  man 
jocularly,  and  threw  himself  into  a  vacant 
chair. 

"  Jest  heard  the  best  thing  out,  boys  !  Ye 
know  Smiley,  over  yar  —  Jim  Smiley  —  fun 
niest  man  in  the  Bar  ?  Well,  Jim  was  jest 
telling  the  richest  yarn  about  "  — 

"  Smiley  's  a fool !  "  interrupted  a 

gloomy  voice. 

"  A  particular  -  -  skunk !  "  added  an 
other  in  sepulchral  accents. 

A  silence  followed  these  positive  state 
ments.  The  Old  Man  glanced  quickly 
around  the  group.  Then  his  face  slowly 
changed.  "  That 's  so,"  he  said  reflectively, 
after  a  pause,  "  certingly  a  sort  of  a  skunk 
and  suthin'  of  a  fool.  In  course."  He  was 
silent  for  a  moment  as  in  painful  contempla 
tion  of  the  unsavoriness  and  folly  of  the 
unpopular  Smiley.  "  Dismal  weather,  ain't 
it  ?  "  he  added,  now  fully  embarked  on  the 
current  of  prevailing  sentiment.  "Mighty 
rough  papers  on  the  boys,  and  no  show  for 
money  this  season.  And  to-morrow 's  Christ- 


SANTA  CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.  165- 
Th  ere  was  a  movement  among  the  men  at 
this  announcement,  but  whether  of  satisfac 
tion  or  disgust  was  not  plain.  "  Yes,"  con 
tinued  the  Old  Man  in  the  lugubrious  tone 
he  had,  within  the  last  few  moments,  uncon 
sciously  adopted, — "  ye^Tc^S^s,  and 
to-night 's  Christmas  Eve/  ^e^seeTboys,  I 
kinder  thought  —  that  is,  I  sorter  had  an 
idee,  jest  passin'  like,  you  khow  —  that  may 
be  ye  'd  all  like  to  come  over  to  my  house 
to-night  and  have  a  sort  of  tear  round.  But 
I  suppose,  now,  you  would  n't  ?  Don't  feel 
like  it,  maybe?"  he  added  with  anxious 
sympathy,  peering  into  the  faces  of  his  com 
panions. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  responded  Tom 
Flynn  with  some  cheerfulness.  "  P'r'aps 
we  may.  (But  how  about  your  wife,  Old 
Man  ?  What  does  she  say  to  it  ?  "  .^jJ^ 
The  Old  Man  hesitated.  His  cohjugal 
experience  had  not  been  a  happy  one,  and 
the  fact  was  known  to  Simpson's  BarJ  His 
first  wife,  a  delicate,  pretty  little  woman^ytX  X^ 
£had  suffered  keenly  and  secretly  from  the 
jealous  suspicions  of  her  husband,  until  one 
day  he  invited  the  whole  Bar  to  his  house 
to  expose  her  infidelity.  On  arriving,  the 
party  found  the  shy,  petite  creature  quietly 


166      SANTA   GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

engaged  in  her  household  duties,  and  retired 
abashed  and  discomfited.  But  the  sensitive 
woman  did  not  easily  recover  from  the  shock 
of  this  extraordinary  outrage.  It  was  with 
difficulty  she  regained  her  equanimity  suffi 
ciently  to  release  her  lover  from  the  closet 
in  which  he  was  concealed,  and  escape  with 
him^"^£333S?a  boy  of  three  years  to  com 
fort  her  bereaved  husband.  The  Old  Man's 
present  wife  had  been  his  cook.  She  was 
large,  loyal,  and  aggressive. 

Before  he  could  reply,  Joe  Dimmick  sug 
gested  with  great  directness  that  it  was  the 
"  Old  Man's  house,"  and  thatjLinvoking  the 
XHyinc  Powcrj  if  the  case  were  his  own,  he 
would  invite  whom  he  pleased,  even  if  in  so 
doing  he  imperilled  his  salvation.  LThc  Pow- 


All  this  Allured 

-vigor  lost  in-4his-nec- 

\ 

eaenry  translation.^ 

"  In  course.  Certainly.  Thet  's  it,"  said 
the  Old  Man,  with  a  sympathetic  frown. 
"  Thar  's  no  trouble  about  thet.  It  's  my 
own  house,  built  every  stick  on  it  myself. 
Don't  you  be  afeard  o'  her,  boys.  She  may 
cut  up  a  trifle  rough  —  ez  wimmin  do  —  but 
she  '11  come  round."  Secretly  the  Old  Man 


SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.       167 

trusted  to  the  exaltation  of  liquor  and  the 
power  of  courageous  example  to  sustain  him 
in  such  an  emergency/ 

As  yet,  Dick  Bullen,  the  oracle  and  leader 
of  Simpson's  Bar,  had  not  spoken.  He  now 
took  his  pipe  from  his  lips.  "Old  Man, 
how 's  that  yer  Johnny  gettin'  on  ?  Seems 
to  me  he  did  n't  look  so  peart  last  time  I 
seed  him  on  the  bluff  heavin'  rocks  at  China 
men.  Did  n't  seem  to  take  much  interest 
in  it.  Thar  was  a  gang  of  'em  by  yar  yes 
terday,  —  drownded  out  up  the  river,  —  and 
I  kinder  thought  o'  Johnny,  and  how  he  'd 
miss  'em !  Maybe  now,  we  'd  be  in  the  way 
ef  he  wus  sick? " 

The  father,  evidently  touched  not  only  by 
this  pathetic  picture  of  Johnny's  deprivation, 
but  by  the  considerate  delicacy  of  the  speak 
er,  hastened  to  assure  him  that  Johnny  was 
better  and  that  a  "  little  fun  might  'liven 
him  up."  Whereupon  Dick  arose,  shook 
himself,  and  saying,  "  I  'm  ready.  Lead  the 
way,  Old  Man  :  here  goes,"  himself  led  the 
way  with  a  leap,  a  characteristic  howl,  and 
darted  out  into  the  night.  As  he  passed 
through  the  outer  room  he  caught  up  a  blaz 
ing  brand  from  the  hearth.  The  action  was 
repeated  by  the  rest  of  the  party,  closely  f ol- 


168      SANTA   GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

lowing  and  elbowing  each  other,  and  before 
the  astonished  proprietor  of  Thompson's 
grocery  was  aware  of  the  intention  of  his 
guests  the  room  was  deserted. 

The  night  was  pitchy  dark.  In  the  first 
gust  of  wind  their  temporary  torches  were 
extinguished,  and  only  the  red  brands  dan 
cing  and  flitting  in  the  gloom  like  \J^unken) 
will-o'-the-wisps  indicated  their  whereabouts. 
Their  way  led  up  Pine-Tree  Canon,  at  the 
head  of  which  a  broad,  low,  bark-thatched 
cabin  burrowed  in  the  mountain-side.  It  was 
the  home  of  the  Old  Man,  and  the  entrance 
to  the  tunnel  in  which  he  worked  when  he 
worked  at  all.  Here  the  crowd  paused  for  a 
moment,  out  of  delicate  deference  to  their 
host,  who  came  up  panting  in  the  rear. 

"  P'r'aps  ye  'd  better  hold  on  a  second  out 
yer,  whilst  I  go  in  and  see  that  things  is  all 
right,"  said  the  Old  Man,  with  an  indiffer 
ence  he  was  far  from  feeling.  The  sugges 
tion  was  graciously  accepted,  the  door  opened 
and  closed  on  the  host,  and  the  crowd,  lean 
ing  their  backs  against  the  wall  and  cower- 
in^jinder  the  eaves,  waited  and  listened. 
€. For  a  few  moments  there  was  no  sound 
but  the  dripping  of  water  from  the  eaves, 
and  the  stir  and  rustle  of  wrestling  boughs 


SANTA  GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.      169 

above  them.  Then  the  men  became  uneasy, 
and  whispered  suggestion  and  suspicion 
passed  from  the  one  to  the  other.  "  Reckon 
she 's  caved  in  his  head  the  first  lick ! " 
"  Decoyed  him  inter  the  tunnel  and  barred 
him  up,  likely."  "  Got  him  down  and  sittin' 
on  him."  "Prob'ly  biling  suthin'  to  heave 
on  us :  stand  clear  the  door,  boys  !  "  Fop* 
just  then  the  latch  clicked,  the  door  slowly 
opened,  and  a  voice  said,  "  Come  in  out  o' 
the  wet." 

The  voice  was  neither  that  of  the  Old 
Man  nor  of  his  wife.  It  was  the  voice  of  a 
small  boy,  (its  weak  treble  broken  by  that 
preternatural  hoarseness  which  only  vaga 
bondage  and  the  habit  of  premature  self- 
assertion  can  give.  ^  It  was  the  face  of  a 
small  boy  that  looked  up  at  theirs,  —  a  face 
that  might  have  been  pretty,  and  even  re 
fined,  but  thatj|t  was  darkened  by  evil  linowl- 
«LcLgp-'-feom  within  onc^dirt  and  hard  expe 
rience  «foom-  without.  He  had  a  blanket 
around  his  shoulders,  and  had  evidently  just 
risen  from  his  bed.  "Come  in,"  he  re- 
peatedjr' and  don't  make  no  noise.  The 
Old  Man^s  in  there  talking  to  mar,"  he  con 
tinued,  pointing  to  an  adjacent  room  which 
seemed  to  be  a  kitchen,  from  which  the  Old 


170       SANTA  CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

Man's  voice  came  in  deprecating  accents. 
"  Let  me  be,"  he  added  querulously  to  Dick 
Bullen,  who  had  caught  him  up,  blanket 
and  all,  and  was  affecting  to  toss  him  into 
the  fire  ;  "  let  go  o'  me,  you  d  —  d  old  fool, 
d'ye  hear?" 

Thus  adjured,  Dick  Bullen  lowered  Johnny 
to  the  ground  with  a  smothered  laugh,  while 
the  men,  entering  quietly,  ranged  themselves 
around  a  long  table  of  rough  boards  which 
occupied  the  centre  of  the  room.  Johnny 
then  gravely  proceeded  to  a  cupboard  and 
brought  out  several  articles,  which  he  depos 
ited  on  the  table.  "  Thar  's  whiskey.  And 
crackers.  And  red  herons.  And  cheese." 
He  took  a  bite  of  the  latter  on  his  way  to 
the  table.  "And  sugar."  He  scooped  up 
a  mouthful  en  route  with  a  small  and  very 
dirty  hand.  "  And  terbacker.  Thar  's  dried 
appils  too  on  the  shelf,  but  I  don't  admire 
'em.  Appils  is  swellin'.  Thar,"  he  con- 
eluded,  "  now  wade  in,  and  don't  be  af  eard. 
tl\  don't  mind  the  old  woman\ 


He  had  stepped  to  the  threshold  of  a  small 
room,  scarcely  larger  than  a  closet,  parti 
tioned  off  from  the  main  apartment,  and 
holding  in  its  dim  recess  a  small  bed.  He 


SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.       171 

stood  there  a  moment  looking  at  the  com 
pany,  his  bare  feet  peeping  from  the  blan 
ket,  and  nodded. 

"  Hello,  Johnny  !  You  ain't  goin'  to  turn 
in  agin,  are  ye  ?  "  said  Dick. 

"Yes,  I  are,"  responded  Johnny  decid 
edly. 

"  Why,  wot 's  up,  old  fellow?  " 

"I'm  sick." 

"  How  sick  ?  " 

"  I  've  got  a  fevier.  And  childblains. 
And  roomatiz,"  returned  Johnny,  and  van 
ished  within.  (  After  a  moment's  pause,  he 
added  in  the  dark,  apparently  from  under 
the  bed-clothes,  "  And  biles  !>" 

There  was  an  {embarrassing  ^silence.  The 
men  looked  at  each  other  and  at  the  fire. 
Even  with  the  appetizing  banquet  before 
them,  it  seemed  as  if  they  might  again  fall 
into  the  despondency  of  Thompson's  grocery, 
when  the  voice  of  the  Old  Man,  incautiously 
lifted,  came  deprecatingly  from  the  kitchen. 

"  Certainly  !  Thet  's  so.  In  course  they* 
is.  A  gang  o'  lazy,  drunken  loafers,  and 
that  ar  Dick  Bullen  's  the  ornariest  of  all. 
Did  n't  hev  no  more  sobe  than  to  come  round 
yar,  with  sickness  in  the  house  and  no  pro 
vision.  Thet 's  what  I  said  :  '  Bullen,'  sez 


172      SANTA   GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

I,  '  it 's  crazy  drunk  you  are,  or  a  fool,'  sez 
I,  '  to  think  o'  such  a  thing.'  '  Staples,'  I 
sez,  '  beyau.^iman,  Staples,  and  'spect  to 
raise*  Ir^^unuer  my  roof,  and  invalids  lyin' 
round?'  But  they  would  come,  —  they 
would.  Thet  's  wot  you  must  'spect  o'  such 
trash  as  lays  round  the  Bar." 

A  burst  of  laughter  from  the  men  fol 
lowed  this  unfortunate  exposure.  Whether 
it  was  overheard  in  the  kitchen,  or  whether 
the  Old  Man's  irate  companion  had  just  then 
exhausted  all  other  modes  of  expressing  her 
contemptuous  indignation,  I  cannot  say,  but 
a  back  door  was  suddenly  slammed  with 
great  violence^  A  moment  later  and  the 
Old  Man  reappeared,  haply  unconscious  of 
the  cause  of  the  late  hilarious  outburst,  and 
smiled  blandly. 

"  The  old  woman  thought  she  'd  jest  run 
over  to  Mrs.  MacFadden's  for  a  sociable 
call,"  he  explained  with  jaunty  indifference 
as  he  took  a  seat  at  the  board. 

dly  enough  it  needed  this  untoward  in- 
ident  to  relieve  the  embarrassment  that  was 
beginning  to  be  felt  by  the  party,  and  their 
natural  audacity  returned  with  their  host. 
I  do  not  propose  to  record  the  convivialities 
of  that  evening.  The  inquisitive  reader  will 


BANT  A   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.       173 

accept  the  statement  that  the  conversation 
was  characterized  by  the  same  intellectual 
exaltation,  the  same  cautious  reverence,  the 
same  fastidious  delicacy,  the  same  rhetorical 
precision,  and  the  same  logical  and  coherent 
discourse,  somewhat  later  in  the  evening, 
which  distinguish  similar  gatherings  of  the 
masculine  sex  in  more  civilized  localities  and 
under  more  favorable  auspices.  No  glasses 
were  broken  in  the  absence  of  any ;  no  liq 
uor  was  uselessly  spilt  on  the  £oor  or  table 
in  the  scarcity  of  that  article.^ 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  the  festivi 
ties  were  interrupted.  "  Hush  !  "  said  Dick 
Bullen,  holding  up  his  hand.  It  was  the 
querulous  voice  of  Johnny  from  his  adjacent 
closet:  "Oh,  dad!" 

The  Old  Man  arose  hurriedly  and  disap 
peared  in  the  closet.  Presently  he  reap 
peared.  "  His  rheumatiz  is  coming  on  agin 
bad,"  he  explained,  "  and  he  wants  rubbin'." 
He  lifted  the  demijohn  of  whiskey  from  the 
table  and  shook  it.  It  was  empty.  Dick 
Bullen  put  down  his  tin  cup  with  an  embar 
rassed  laugh.  So  did  the  others.  The  Old 
Man  examined  their  contents,  and  said  hope 
fully,  "  I  reckon  that  's  enough ;  he  don't 
need  much.  You  hold  on,  all  o'  you,  for  a 


174       SANTA  CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

spell,  and  I  '11  be  back  ;  "  and  vanished  in 
the  closet  with  an  old  flannel  shirt  and  the 
whiskey.  The  door  closed  but  imperfectly, 
and  the  following  dialogue  was  distinctly 
audible :  — 
//"Now,  sonny,  whar  does  she  ache  worst?" 

"  Sometimes  over  yar  and  sometimes  un 
der  yer  ;  but  it 's  most  powerful  from  yer  to 
yer.  Rub  yer,  dad." 

A  silence  seemed  to  indicate  a  brisk  rub 
bing.  Then  Johnny :  — 

"  Hevin'  a  good  time  out  yar,  dad  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sonny." 

"  To-morrer  's  Chrismiss,  —  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sonny.     How  does  she  feel  now  ?  " 

"Better.  Rub  a  little  furder  down.  Wot 's 
Chrismiss,  any  way  ?  Wot 's  it  all  about  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it's  a  day." 

This  exhaustive  definition  was  apparently 
satisfactory,  for  there  was  a  silent  interval 
of  rubbing.  Presently  Johnny  again  :  — 

"  Mar  sez  that  everywhere  else  but  yer 
everybody  gives  things  to  everybody  Chris- 
miss^nd  then  she  jist  waded  inter  you^)  She 
sez  thar  's  a  man  they  call  Sandy  Claws,  not 
a  white  man,  you  know,  but  a  kind  o'  Chine- 
min,  comes  down  the  chimbley  night  afore 
Chrismiss  and  gives  things  to  chillern, — 


SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.      175 

boys  like  me.  Puts  'em  in  their  butes! 
Thet  's  what  she  tried  to  play  upon  me. 
Easy,  now,  pop,  whar  are  you  rubbin'  to,  — 
thet  's  a  mile  from  the  place.  She  jest  made 
that  up,  did  n't  she,  jest  to  aggrewate  me  and 
you?  Don't  rub  than  .  .  .  Why,  dad !  " 

In  the  great  quiet  that  seemed  to  have 
fallen  upon  the  house  the  sigh  of  the  near 
pines  and  the  drip  of  leaves  without  was 
very  distinct.  Johnny's  voice,  too,  was  low 
ered  as  he  went  on:  "Don't  you  take  on 
now,  for  I  'm  gettin'  all  right  fast.  Wot 's 
the  boys  doin'  out  thar  ?  " 

(Jhe  Old  Man  partly  opened  the  door  and 
peered  through.  His  guests  were  sitting- 
there  sociably  enough,  and  there  were  a 
few  silver  coins  and  a  lean  buckskin  purse 
on  the  tableT)  "  Bettin'  on  suthin',  —  some 
little  game  or  'nother.  They  're  all  right," 

e  replied  to  Johnny,  and  recommenced  his 
rubbing) 

£l  'd  like  to  take  a  hand  and  win  some 
money,"  said  Johnny  reflectively,  after  a 
pause. 

The  Old  Man  glibly  repeated  what  was 
evidently  a  familiar  formula,  that  if  Johnny 
would  wait  until  he  struck  it  rich  in  the  tun 
nel,  he  'd  have  lots  of  money,  etc.,  etc. 


176       SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

"  Yes,"  said  Johnny,  "  but  you  don't. 
And  whether  you  strike  it  or  I  win  it,  it 's 
about  the  same.  It 's  all  lucC)  But  it 's 
mighty  cur'o's  about  Chrismiss,  —  ain't  it  ? 
Why  do  they  call  it  Chrismiss?" 
^Perhaps  from  some  instinctive  deference 
to  the  overhearing  of  his  guests,  or  from 
some  vague  sense  of  incongruity^  the  Old 
Man's  reply  was  so  low  as  to  be  inaudible 
beyond  the  room. 

"  Yes,"  said  Johnny,  with  some  slight 
abatement  of  interest,  "  I  've  heerd  o'  him 
before.  Thar,  that  '11  do,  dad.  I  don't  ache 
near  so  bad  as  I  did.  Now  wrap  me  tight 
in  this  yer  blanket.  So.  Now,"  he  added 
in  a  muffled  whisper,  "  sit  down  yer  by  me 
till  I  go  asleep."  To  assure  himself  of  obe 
dience,  he  disengaged  one  hand  from  the 
blanket,  and,  grasping  his  father's  sleeve, 
again  composed  himself  to  rest. 

For  some  moments  the  Old  Man  waited 
patiently.  Then  the  unwonted  stillness  of 
the  house  excited  his  curiosity,  and  without 
moving  from  the  bed  he  cautiously  opened 
the  door  with  his  disengaged  hand,  and 
looked  into  the  main  room.  To  his  infinite 
surprise  it  was  dark  and  deserted.  But  even 
then  a  smouldering  log  on  the  hearth  broke, 


SANTA  CLAU8  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.      177 

and  by  the  upspringing  blaze  he  saw  the 
figure  of  Dick  Bullen  sitting  by  the  dying 
embers. 

"  Hello !  " 

Dick  started,  rose,  and  came  somewhat 
unsteadily  toward  him. 

"  Whar  's  the  boys  ?  "  said  the  Old  Man. 

"  Gone  up  the  canon  (gn  a  little  pasear.  I 
They  're  coming  back  for  me   in  a   minit. 
I  'm  waitin'  round  for  'em.     What  are  you 
starin'    at,    Old   Man?"    he  added,  with  a 
forced  laugh ;  "  do  you  think  I  'm  drunk  ?  " 

^£he  Old  Man  might  have  been  pardoned 
the  supposition,  for  Dick's  eyes  were  hu 
mid  and  his  face  flushed.  He  loitered  and 
lounged  back  to  the  chimney,  yawned,  shook 
himself,  buttoned  up  his  coat  and  laughed^) 
"  Liquor  ain't  so  plenty  as  that,  Old  Man1^ 
Now  don't  you  git  up,"  he  continued,  as  the 
Old  Man  made  a  movement  to  release  his 
sleeve  from  Johnny's  hand.  "  Don't  you 
mind  manners.  Sit  jest  whar  you  be  ;  I  'm 
goin'  in  a  jiffy.  Thar,  that 's  them  now." 

There  was  a  low  tap  at  the  door.  Dick 
Bullen  opened  it  quickly,  nodded  "  Good 
night  "  to  his  host,  and  disappeared.  {Jhe 
Old  Man  would  have  followed  him  but  for 
the  hand  that  still  unconsciously  grasped  his 


178       SANTA  CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

sleeve.  He  could  have  easily  disengaged  it ; 
it  was  small,  weak,  and  emaciated.  But 
perhaps  because  it  was  small,  weak,  and 
emaciated  he  changed  his  mind,  and,  draw 
ing  his  chair  closer  to  the  bed,  rested  his 
head  upon  it.y^n  this  defenceless  attitude 
the  potency  of  his  earlier  potations  surprised 
himN  vThe  room  flickered  and  faded  before 
his  eyes,  reappeared,  faded  again,  went  out, 
and  left  him  —  asleep^ 

Meaafei^Dick  Birflen,  closing  the  door, 
confronted  his  companions.  "  Are  you 
ready?"  said  Staples.  "  Ready,"  said  Dick; 
"what's  the  time?"  "Past  twelve,"  was 
the  reply ;  "  can  you  make  it  ?  —  it 's  nigh 
on  fifty  miles,  the  round  trip  hither  and 
yon."  "  I  reckon,"  returned  Dick  shortly. 
"  Whar  's  the  mare  ?  "  "  Bill  and  Jack  's 
holdin'  her  at  the  crossin'."  '^<et  'em  hold 
on  a  minit  longer,"  said  Dic£) 

^Je  turned  and  reentered  the  house  softly. 
By  the  light  of  the  guttering  candle  and 
dying  fire  he  saw  that  the  door  of  the  little 
room  was  open.  He  stepped  toward  it  on 
tiptoe  and  looked  in.  The  Old  Man  had 
fallen  back  in  his  chair,  snoring,  his  helpless 
feet  thrust  out  in  a  line  with  his  collapsed 
shoulders,  and  his  hat  pulled  over  his  eyes, 


SANTA   GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.      179 

Beside  him,  on  a  narrow  wooden  bedstead, 
lay  Johnny,  muffled  tightly  in  a  blanket  that 
hid  all  save  a  strip  of  forehead  and  a  few 
curls  damp  with  perspiration.  Dick  Bullen 
made  a  step  forward,  hesitated,  and  glanced 
over  his  shoulder  into  the  deserted  room. 
Everything  was  quiet.  With  a  sudden  res 
olution  he  parted  his  huge  mustaches  with 
both  hands,  and  stooped  6ver  the  sleeping 
boy.  But  even  as  he  did  so  a  mischievous 
blast,  lying  in  wait,  swooped  down  the  chim 
ney,  rekindled  the  hearth,  and  lit  up  the 
room  with  a  shameless  glow,  from  which 
Dick  fled  in  bashful  terror} 

His  companions  were  already  waiting  for 
him  at  the  crossing.  Two  of  them  were 
struggling  in  the  darkness  with  some  strange 
misshapen  bulk,  which  as  Dick  came  nearer 
took  the  semblance  of  a  great  yellow  horse. 
*  XTt  was  the  mare.  She  was  not  a  pretty 
pteture.  From  her  Roman  nose  to  her  ris 
ing  haunches,  from  her  arched  spine  hidden 
by  the  stiff  machillas  of  a  Mexican  saddle, 
to  her  thick,  straight,  bony  legs,  there  was 
not  a  line  of  equine  grace.  In  her  half- 
blind  but  wholly  vicious  white  eyes,  in  her 
protruding  under-lip,  ii^her  monstrous  color, 
there  was  nothing  but  ugliness  and  vice^y  \^* 

y* 


180       SANTA   GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  Staples,  "  stand  cl'ar 
of  her  heels,  boy,  and  up  with  you.  Don't 
miss  your  first  holt  of  her  mane,  and  mind 
ye  get  your  off  stirrup  quick.  Ready  !  " 

There  was  a  leap,  a  scrambling  struggle, 
a  bound,  a  wild  retreat  of  the  crowd,  a  circle 
of  flying  hoofs,  two  springless  leaps  that 
jarred  the  earth,  a  rapid  play  and  jingle  of 
spurs,  a  plunge,  and  then  the  voice  of  Dick 
somewhere  in  the  darkness.  "  All  right  !  " 

"  Don't  take  the  lower  road  back  onless 
you  're  hard  pushed  for  time  !  Don't  hold 
her  in  down  hill.  We  '11  be  at  the  ford  at 
five.  G'lang  !  Hoopa  !  Mula  !  GO  !  " 

A  splash,  a  spark  struck  from  the  ledge 
in  the  road,  a  clatter  in  the  rocky  cut  be- 
vond,  and  Dick  was  gone. 

* 


.  . 

(  Sing,  O  Muse,  the  ride  of  Richard  Bul- 
len  !  Sing,  O  Muse,  of  chivalrous  men  !  the 
sacred  quest,  the  doughty  deeds,  the  battery 
of  low  churls,  the  fearsome  ride  and  grue 
some  perils  of  the  Flower  of  Simpson's  Bar  ! 
Alack  !  she  is  dainty,  this  Muse  !  She  will 
have  none  of  this  bucking  brute  and  swag 
gering,  ragged  rider,  and  I  must  fain  follow 
hiin  in  prose,  afoot!^ 

It  was  one  o'clock,  and  yet  he  had  only 


SANTA    CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.      181 

gained  Rattlesnake  Hill.  For  in  that  time 
Jovita  had  rehearsed  to  him  all  her  imper 
fections  and  practised  all  her  vices.  Thrice 
had  she  stumbled.  Twice  had  she  thrown 
up  her  Roman  nose  in  a  straight  line  with 
the  reins,  and,  resisting  bit  and  spur,  struck 
out  madly  across  country.  Twice  had  she 
reared,  and,  rearing,  fallen  backward ;  and 
twice  had  the  agile  Dick,  unharmed,  re 
gained  his  seat  before  she  found  her  vicious 
legs  again.  And  a  mile  beyond  them,  at  the 
foot  of  a  long  hill,  was  Rattlesnake  Creek. 
Dick  knew  that  here  was  the  crucial  test  of 
his  ability  to  perform  his  enterprise,  set  his 
teeth  grimly,  put  his  knees  well  into  her 
flanks,  and  changed  his  defensive  tactics  to 
brisk  aggression.  Bullied  and  maddened, 
Jovita  began  the  descent  of  the  hill.j^Here 
the  artful  Richard  pretended  to  hold  her 
in  with  ostentatious  objurgation  and  well- 
feigned  cries  of  alarm.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
add  that  Jovita  instantly  ran  away.  Nor 
need  I  state  the  time  made  in  the  descent ;  it 
is  written  in  the  chronicles  of  Simpson's 
Bar.  Enough  thajjp  another  moment,  as  it 
seemed  to  Dick,  she  was  splashing  on  the 
overflowed  banks  of  Rattlesnake  Creek.  As 
Dick  expected,  the  momentum  she  had  ao 


182      SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

quired  carried  her  beyond  the  point  of  balk 
ing,  and,  holding  her  well  together  for  a 
mighty  leap,  they  dashed  into  the  middle  of 
the  swiftly  flowing  current.  A  few  moments 
of  kicking,  wading,  and  swimming,  and  Dick  \ 

* 


drew  a  long  breath  on  the  opposite 

The  road  from  Rattlesnake  Creek  to  Red 
Mountain  was  tolerably  level.  Either  the 
plunge  in  Rattlesnake  Creek  had  dampened 
her  baleful  fire,  or  the  art  which  led  to  it 
had  shown  her  the  superior  wickedness  of 
her  rider,  for  Jovita  no  longer  wasted  her 
surplus  energy  in  wanton  conceits.  Once 
she  bucked,  but  it  was  from  force  of  habit  ; 
once  she  shied,  but  it  was  from  a  new, 
freshly-painted  meeting-house  at  the  cross 
ing  of  the  county  road.  (Hollows,  ditches, 
gravelly  deposits,  patches  of  freshly-spring 
ing  grasses,  flew  from  beneath  her  rattling 
hoofs)  ^She  began  to  smell  unpleasantly, 
once  or  twice  she  coughed  slightly,  but  there 
was  no  abatement  of  her  strength  or  speed. 
By  two  o'clock  he  had  passed  Red  Mountain 
and  begun  the  descent  to  the  plain.  Ten 
minutes  later  the  driver  of  the  fast  Pioneer 
coach  was  overtaken  and  passed  by  a  "  man 
on  a  Pinto  hoss,"  -^-  an  event  sufficiently 
notable  for  remark,  j  At  half  past  two  Dick 


SANTA  GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.      183 

rose  in  his  stirrups  with  a  great  shout.  Stars 
were  glittering  through  the  rifted  clouds, 
and  beyond  him,  out  of  the  plain,  rose  two 
spires,  a  flagstaff,  and  a  straggling  line  of 
black  objects.  Dick  jingled  his  spurs  and 
swung  his  riata,  Jovita  bounded  forward, 
and  in  another  moment  they  swept  into  Tut- 
tleville,  and  drew  up  before  the  wooden 
piazza  of  "  The  Hotel  of  All  Nations." 

(jj^hat  transpired  that  night  at  Tuttleville 
is  not  strictly  a  part  of  this  record.  Briefly 
I  may  state,  however,  that  after  Jovita  had 
been  handed  over  to  a  sleepy  ostler,  whom 
she  at  once  kicked  into  unpleasant  conscious 
ness,  Dick  sallied  out  with  the  barkeeper  for 
a  tour  of  the  sleeping  townA  Lights  still 
gleamed  from  a  few  saloons  and  gambling- 
houses  ;  but,  avoiding  these,  they  stopped 
before  several  closed  shops,  and  by  persist 
ent  tapping  and  judicious  outcry  roused  the 
proprietors  from  their  beds,  and  made  them 
unbar  the  doors  of  their  magazines  and  ex 
pose  their  wares.  (Sometimes  they  were  met 
by  curses,  but  oftener  by  interest  and  some 
concern  in  their  needs,  and  the  interview 
was  invariably  concluded  by  a  drink^)  It 
was  three  o'clock  before  this  pleasantry  was 
given  over,  and  with  a  small  waterproof  bag 


184      SANTA   GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

of  India  rubber  strapped  on  his  shoulders 
Dick  returned  to  the  hotel.  \But  here  he 
was  waylaid  by  Beauty,  —  Beauty  opulent 
in  charms,  affluent  in  dress,  persuasive  in 
speech,  and  Spanish  in  accent !  In  vain  she 
repeated  the  invitation  in  "  Excelsior,"  hap 
pily  scorned  by  all  Alpine-climbing  youth, 
and  rejected  by  this  child  of  the  Sierras, — 
a  rejection  softened  in  this  instance  by  a 
laugh  and  his  last  gold  coin.  Anjpthen  he 
sprang  to  the  saddle,  and  dashed  down  the 
lonely  street  and  out  into  the  lonelier  plain, 
where  presently  the  lights,  the  black  line  of 
houses,  the  spires,  and  the  flagstaff  sank  into 
the  earth  behind  him  again  and  were  lost  in 
the  distance. 

The  storm  had  cleared  away,  the  air  was 
brisk  and  cold,  the  outlines  of  adjacent  land 
marks  were  distinct,  but  it  was  half  past 
four  before  Dick  reached  the  meeting-house 
and  the  crossing  of  the  county  road.  /To 
avoid  the  rising  grade  he  had  taken  a  longer 
and  more  circuitous  road,  in  whose  vis 
cid  mud  Jovita  sank  fetlock  deep  at  every 
bound.  It  was  a  poor  preparation  for  a 
steady  ascent  of  five  miles  more  ;  but  Jo- 
vita,  gathering  her  legs  under  her,  took  it 
with  her  usual  blind,  unreasoning  fury,  and 


SANTA  CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.       185 

a  half  hour  later  reached  the  long  level  that 
led  to  Rattlesnake  Creek.  Another  half 
hour  would  bring  him  to  the  creek.  He 
threw  the  reins  lightly  upon  the  neck  of  the 
mare,  chirruped  to  her,  and  began  to  singj 

Suddenly  Jovita  shied  with  a  bound  "that 
would  have  unseated  a  less  practised  rider. 
Hanging  to  her  rein  was  a  figure  that  had 
leaped  from  the  bank,  and  at  the  same  time 
from  the  road  before  her  arose  a  shadowy 
horse  and  rider.  '*  Throw  up  your  hands," 
commanded  the  second  apparition,  with  an 
oath. 

Dick  felt  the  mare  tremble,  quiver,  and 
apparently  sink  under  him.  He  knew  what 
it  meant,  and  was  prepared. 

"  Stand  aside,  Jack  Simpson.  I  know 
you,  you  d — d  thief !  Let  me  pass,  or  "  — 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  Jovita 
rose  straight  in  the  air  with  a  terrific  bound, 
Qhrowing  the  figure  from  her  bit  with  a  sin 
gle  shake  of  her  vicious  heaj)  and  charged 
wi$t-~deadly-  malevolence  down  on  the  im 
pediment  before  her.  An  oath,  a  pistol-shot, 
horse  and  highwayman  rolled  over  in  the 
road,  and  the  next  moment  Jovita  was  a 
hundred  yards  away.  But  the  good  right 
arm  of  her  rider,  shattered  by  a  bullet, 
dropped  helplessly  at  his  side. 


186       SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

Without  slacking  his  speed  he  shifted  the 
reins  to  his  left  hand.  (jTut  a  few  moments 
later  he  was  obliged  to  halt  and  tighten  the 
saddle-girths  that  had  slipped  in  the  onset. 
This  in  his  crippled  condition  took  some 
time?)  He  had  no  fear  of  pursuit,  but,  look 
ing  up,  he  saw  that  the  eastern  stars  were 
already  paling,  and  that  the  distant  peaks 
had  lost  their  ghostly  whiteness,  and  now 
stood  out  blackly  against  a  lighter  sky. 
Day  was  upon  him.  Then  completely  ab 
sorbed  in  a  single  idea,  he  forgot  the  pain 
of  his  wouiid,(and,  mounting  again)  dashed 
on  towards  Raltlesnake  Creek.  But  now 
Jovita's  breath  came  broken  by  gasps,  Dick 
reeled  in  his  saddle,  and  brighter  and 
brighter  grew  the  sky. 

Richard;    nw*,   Jowfea  ;   linger,--  O 


xFor  the  last  few  rods  there  was  a  roaring 
in  his  ears.  Was  it  exhaustion  from  a  loss 
of  blood,  or  what  ?  He  was  dazed  and  giddy 
as  he  swept  down  the  hill,  and  did  not 
recognize  his  surroundings.  Had  he  taken 
the  wrong  road,  or  was  this  Rattlesnake 
Creek? 

It  was.     But  the  brawling  creek  he  had 
swam  a  few  hours  before  had  risen,  more 


SANTA   CLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.       187 

than  doubled  its  volume,  and  now  rolled  a 
swift  and  resistless  river  between  him  and 
Eattlesnake  Hill.  For  the  first  time  that 
night  Richard's  heart  sank  within  him.  The 
river,  the  mountain,  tne  quickening  east, 
swam  before  his  eyes.  He  shut  them  to 
recover  his  self-control.  In  that  brief  inter 
val,  by  some  fantastic  mental  process,  the 
little  room  at  Simpson's  Bar  and  the  fig 
ures  of  the  sleeping  father  and  son  rose 
upon  him.  He  opened  his  eyes  wildly,  cast 
off  his  coat,  pistol,  boots,  and  saddle,  bound 
his  precious  pack  tightly  to  his  shoulders, 
grasped  the  bare  flanks  of  Jovita  with  his 
bared  knees,  and  with  a  shout  dashed  into 
the  yellow  water.  A  cry  rose  from  the 
opposite  bank  as  the  head  of  a  man  and 
horse  struggled  for  a  few  moments  against 
the  battling  current,  and  then  were  swept 
away  amidst  uprooted  trees  and  whirling 
driftwood. 

The  Old  Man  started  and  woke.  The  fire 
on  the  hearth  was  dead,  the  candle  in  the 
outer  room  flickering  in  its  socket,  and 
somebody  was  rapping  at  the  door.  He 
opened  it,  but  fell  back  with  a  cry  before 
the  dripping,  half-naked  figure  that  reeled 
against  the  doorpost. 


188      SANTA   GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR. 

"Dick?" 

"  Hush !     Is  he  awake  yet  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but,  Dick  "  — 

"  Dry  up,  you  old  fool !  Get  me  some 
whiskey,  quick  !  "  frhe  Old  Man  flew,  and 
returned  with  —  an  empty  bottle  !  Dick 
would  have  sworn,  but  his  strength  was  not 
equal  to  the  occasion.  He  staggered,  caught 
at  the  handle  of  the  door,  and  motioned  to 
the  Old  Man} 

"  Thar  's  suthin'  in  my  pack  yer  for  Johnny. 
Take  it  off.  I  can't." 

The  Old  Man  unstrapped  the  pack,  and 
laid  it  before  the  exhausted  man. 

"  Open  it,  quick." 

He  did  so  with  trembling  fingers.  It  con 
tained  only  a  few  poor  toys,  — {cheap  and 
barbaric  enough,  goodness  knows,  but  bright 
with  paint  and  tinsel.  One  of  them  was 
broken ;  another,  I  fear,  was  irretrievably 
ruined  by  water ;  and  on  the  third  —  ah  me ! 
there  was  a  cruel  spoy 

"  It  don't  look  like  much,  that 's  a  fact," 
said  Dick  ruefully.  ..."  But  it 's  the  best 
we  could  do.  ...  Take  'em,  Old  Man,  and 
put  'em  in  his  stocking,  and  tell  him  —  tell 
him,  you  know  —  hold  me,  Old  Man  "  — 
The  Old  Man  caught  at  his  sinking  figure. 


SANTA  GLAUS  AT  SIMPSON'S  BAR.       189 

"Tell  him,"  said  Dick,  with  a  weak  little 
laugh,  —  "  tell  him  Sandy  Glaus  has  come."> 
^Lnd  even  so,  bedraggled,  ragged,  unshaven 
and  unshorn,  with  one  arm  hanging  help 
lessly  at  his  side,  Santa  Glaus  came  to 
Simpson's  BarJ  and  fell  fainting  on  the  first 
threshold.  Tne  Christmas  dawn  came  slowly 
after,  touching  the  remoter  peaks  with  the 
rosy  warmth  of  ineffable  love.  And  it 
looked  so  tenderly  on  Simpson's  Bar  that 
the  whole  mountain,  as  if  caught  in  a  gen 
erous  action,  blushed  to  the  skies. 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 


HE  lived  alone.  I  do  not  think  this  pe 
culiarity  arose  from  any  wish  to  withdraw 
his  foolishness  from  the  rest  of  the  camp, 
nor  was  it  probable  that  the  combined  wis 
dom  of  Five  Forks  ever  drove  him  into  ex 
ile.  My  impression  is  that  he  lived  alone 
from  choice,  —  a  choice  he  made  long  before 
the  camp  indulged  in  any  criticism  of  his 
mental  capacity.  He  was  much  given  to 
moody  reticence,  and  although  to  outward 
appearances  a  strong  man  was  always  com 
plaining  of  ill  health.  Indeed,  one  theory 
of  his  isolation  was  that  it  afforded  him  bet 
ter  opportunities  for  taking  medicine,  of 
which  he  habitually  consumed  large  quan 
tities. 

His  folly  first  dawned  upon  Five  Forks 
through  the  Post  Office  windows.  He  was 
for  a  long  time  the  only  man  who  wrote 
home  by  every  mail,  his  letters  being  always 
directed  to  the  same  person,  —  a  woman. 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  191 

Now  it  so  happened  that  the  bulk  of  the 
Five  Forks'  correspondence  was  usually  the 
other  way ;  there  were  many  letters  received, 
—  the  majority  being  in  the  female  hand,  — 
but  very  few  answered. 

The  men  received  them  indifferently,  or 
as  a  matter  of  course ;  a  few  opened  and 
read  them  on  the  spot  with  a  barely  repressed 
smile  of  self-conceit,  or  quite  as  frequently 
glanced  over  them  with  undisguised  impa 
tience.  Some  of  the  letters  began  with 
"  My  dear  husband,,"  and  some  were  never 
called  for.  But  the  fact  that  the  only  regular 
correspondent  of  Five  Forks  never  received 
any  reply  became  at  last  quite  notorious. 
Consequently,  when  an  envelope  was  received 
bearing  the  stamp  of  the  "  Dead  Letter  Of 
fice,"  addressed  to  the  Fool  under  the  more 
conventional  title  of  "  Cyrus  Hawkins," 
there  was  quite  a  fever  of  excitement.  I  do 
not  know  how  the  secret  leaked  out,  but  it 
was  eventually  known  to  the  camp  that  the 
envelope  contained  Hawkins'  own  letters  re 
turned.  This  was  the  first  evidence  of  his 
weakness  ;  any  man  who  repeatedly  wrote  to 
a  woman  who  did  not  reply  must  be  a  fool. 
1  think  Hawkins  suspected  that  his  folly  was 
known  to  the  camp,  but  he  took  refuge  in 


192     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

symptoms  of  chills  and  fever,  which  he  at 
once  developed,  and  effected  a  diversion  with 
three  bottles  of  Indian  cholagogue  and  two 
boxes  of  pills.  At  all  events,  at  the  end  of 
a  week  he  resumed  a  pen,  stiffened  by  ton 
ics,  with  all  his  old  epistolatory  pertinacity. 
This  time  the  letters  had  a  new  address. 

In  those  days  a  popular  belief  obtained  in 
the  mines  that  Luck  particularly  favored  the 
foolish  and  unscientific.  Consequently,  when 
Hawkins  struck  a  "  pocket  "  in  the  hillside 
near  his  solitary  cabin,  there  was  but  little 
surprise.  "  He  will  sink  it  all  in  the  next 
hole,"  was  the  prevailing  belief,  predicated 
upon  the  usual  manner  in  which  the  pos 
sessor  of  "  nigger  luck  "  disposed  of  his  for 
tune.  To  everybody's  astonishment,  Haw 
kins,  after  taking  out  about  eight  thousand 
dollars,  and  exhausting  the  pocket,  did  not 
prospect  for  another.  The  camp  then  waited 
patiently  to  see  what  he  would  do  with  his 
money.  I  think,  however,  that  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  their  indignation  was 
kept  from  taking  the  form  of  a  personal  as 
sault  when  it  became  known  that  he  had 
purchased  a  draft  for  eight  thousand  dollars 
in  favor  of  "  that  woman."  More  than  this, 
it  was  finally  whispered  that  the  draft  was 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     193 

returned  to  him,  as  his  letters  had  been,  and 
that  he  was  ashamed  to  reclaim  the  money 
at  the  express  office.  "  It  would  n't  be  a 
bad  speckilation  to  go  East,  get  some  smart 
gal  for  a  hundred  dollars  to  dress  herself  up 
and  represent  that  hag,  and  jest  freeze  on  to 
that  eight  thousand,"  suggested  a  far-seeing 
financier.  I  may  state  here  that  we  always 
alluded  to  Hawkins'  fair  unknown  as  "  The 
Hag,"  without  having,  I  am  confident,  the 
least  justification  for  that  epithet. 

That  the  Fool  should  gamble  seemed  emi 
nently  fit  and  proper.  That  he  should  occa 
sionally  win  a  large  stake,  according  to  that 
popular  theory  which  I  have  recorded  in  the 
preceding  paragraph,  appeared  also  a  not 
improbable  or  inconsistent  fact.  That  he 
should,  however,  break  the  faro  bank  which 
Mr.  John  Hamlin  had  set  up  in  Five  Forks, 
and  carry  off  a  sum  variously  estimated  at 
from  ten  to  twenty  thousand  dollars,  and  not 
return  the  next  day  and  lose  the  money  at 
the  same  table,  really  appeared  incredible. 
Yet  such  was  the  fact.  A  day  or  two  passed 
without  any  known  investment  of  Mr.  Haw- 
kins'  recently  acquired  capital.  "  Ef  he  al 
lows  to  send  it  to  that  Hag,"  said  one  prom 
inent  citizen,  "  suthin'  ought  to  be  done  I 


194  THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

It 's  jest  ruinin'  the  reputation  of  this  yer 
camp,  —  this  sloshin'  around  o'  capital  on 
non-residents  ez  don't  claim  it  !  "  "  It  's 
settin'  an  example  o'  extravagance,"  said 
another,  "ez  is  little  better  nor  a  swindle. 
Thar  's  rnor  'n  five  men  in  this  camp  thet, 
hearin'  thet  Hawkins  had  sent  home  eight 
thousand  dollars,  must  jest  rise  up  and  send 
home  their  hard  earnings,  too!  And  then 
to  think  thet  that  eight  thousand  was  only  a 
bluff,  after  all,  and  thet  it 's  lyin'  there  on 
call  in  Adams  &  Co.'s  bank  !  Well !  I  say 
it 's  one  o'  them  things  a  vigilance  commit 
tee  oughter  look  into  !  " 

When  there  seemed  no  possibility  of  this 
repetition  of  Hawkins'  folly,  the  anxiety  to 
know  what  he  had  really  done  with  his 
money  became  intense.  At  last  a  self-ap 
pointed  committee  of  four  citizens  dropped 
artfully,  but  to  outward  appearances  care 
lessly,  upon  him  in  his  seclusion.  When 
some  polite  formalities  had  been  exchanged, 
and  some  easy  vituperation  of  a  backward 
season  offered  by  each  of  the  parties,  Tom 
Wingate  approached  the  subject :  — 

"  Sorter  dropped  heavy  on  Jack  Hamlin 
the  other  night,  did  n't  ye  ?  He  allows  you 
did  n't  give  him  no  show  for  revenge.  I  said 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     195 

you  wasn't  no  such  d — d  fool,  didn't  I, 
Dick?"  continued  the  artful  Wingate,  ap 
pealing  to  a  confederate. 

"  Yes,"  said  Dick  promptly.  "  You  said 
twenty  thousand  dollars  was  n't  goin'  to  he 
thrown  around  recklessly.  You  said  Cyrus 
had  suthin'  better  to  do  with  his  capital," 
superadded  Dick,  with  gratuitous  mendacity. 
"  I  disremember  now  what  partickler  invest 
ment  you  said  he  was  goin'  to  make  with  it," 
he  continued,  appealing  with  easy  indiffer 
ence  to  his  friend. 

Of  course  Wingate  did  not  reply,  but 
looked  at  the  Fool,  who,  with  a  troubled 
face,  was  rubbing  his  legs  softly.  After  a 
pause  he  turned  deprecatingly  toward  his 
visitors. 

"  Ye  did  n't  enny  of  ye  ever  hev  a  sort  of 
tremblin'  in  your  legs,  —  a  kind  o'  shakiness 
from  the  knee  down  ?  Suthin',"  he  contin 
ued,  slightly  brightening  with  his  topic, — 
"  suthin'  that  begins  like  chills  arid  yet  ain't 
chills.  A  kind  o'  sensation  of  goneness  here, 
and  a  kind  o'  feelin'  as  if  you  might  die 
suddent !  When  Wright's  Pills  don't  some 
how  reach  the  spot,  and  Quinine  don't  fetch 
you?" 

"No!  "  said  Wingate,  with  a  curt  direct- 


196  THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE    FORKS. 

ness  and  the  air  of  authoritatively  respond 
ing  for  his  friends.  "  No,  never  had.  You 
was  speakin'  of  this  yer  investment." 

"And   your    bowels    all   the  time  irre<ni- 

O 

lar  !  "  continued  Hawkins,  blushing  under 
Wingate's  eye,  and  yet  clinging  despairingly 
to  his  theme  like  a  shipwrecked  mariner  to 
his  plank. 

Wing-ate  did  not  reply,  but  glanced  signif 
icantly  at  the  rest.  Hawkins  evidently  saw 
this  recognition  of  his  mental  deficiency,  and 
said  apologetically,  "  You  was  saying  suthin' 
about  my  investment  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Wingate,  so  rapidly  as  to 
almost  take  Hawkins'  breath  away,  —  "the 
investment  you  made  in  "  — 

"  Rafferty's  Ditch,"  said  the  Fool,  timidly. 

For  a  moment  the  visitors  could  only  stare 
blankly  at  each  other.  "  Rafferty's  Ditch," 
the  one  notorious  failure  of  Five  Forks ! 
Rafferty's  Ditch,  the  impracticable  scheme 
of  an  utterly  unpractical  man;  Rafferty's 
Ditch,  a  ridiculous  plan  for  taking  water 
that  could  not  be  got  to  a  place  where  it 
was  n't  wanted !  Rafferty's  Ditch,  that  had 
buried  the  fortunes  of  Rafferty  and  twenty 
Wretched  stockholders  in  its  muddy  depths ! 

"And  thet's  it,  is  it?"   said   Wingate, 


THE  FOOL    OF  FIVE  FORKS.  197 

after  a  gloomy  pause.  "  Thet  's  it !  I  see 
it  all  now,  boys.  That 's  how  ragged  Pat 
Kafferty  went  clown  to  San  Francisco  yes 
terday  in  store  clothes,  and  his  wife  and  four 
children  went  off  in  a  kerridge  to  Sacra 
mento.  Thet 's  why  them  ten  workmen  of 
his,  ez  bed  n't  a  cent  to  bless  themselves 
with,  was  playin'  billiards  last  night  and 
eatin'  isters.  Thet 's  whar  that  money  kum 
frum  —  one  hundred  dollars  —  to  pay  for 
thet  long  advertisement  of  the  new  issue  of 
Ditch  stock  in  the  Times  yesterday.  Thet 's 
why  them  six  strangers  were  booked  at  the 
Magnolia  Hotel  yesterday.  Don't  you  see 

—  it 's  thet  money  and  thet  Fool !  " 

The  Fool  sat  silent.  The  visitors  rose 
without  a  word. 

"You  never  took  any  of  them  Indian 
Vegetable  Pills  ?  "  asked  Hawkins  timidly 
of  Wingate. 

"No,"  roared  Wingate,  as  he  opened  the 
door. 

>4  They  tell  me  that  took  with  the  Panacea 

—  they  was  out  o'  the  Panacea  when  I  went 
to  the  drug  store  last  week  —  they  say  that 
took  with  the  Panacea  they  always  effect  a 
certing  cure."     But  by  this  time  Wingate 
And    his   disgusted    friends    had    retreated, 


198  THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

slamming  the  door  on  the  Fool  and  his  ail 
ments. 

Nevertheless,  in  six  months  the  whole 
affair  was  forgotten,  the  money  had  been 
spent  —  the  "  Ditch  "  had  been  purchased 
by  a  company  of  Boston  capitalists,  fired  by 
the  glowing  description  of  an  Eastern  tour 
ist,  who  had  spent  one  drunken  night  at 
Five  Forks  —  and  I  think  even  the  mental 
condition  of  Hawkins  might  have  remained 
undisturbed  by  criticism,  but  for  a  singular 
incident. 

It  was  during  an  exciting  political  cam 
paign,  when  party  feeling  ran  high,  that  the 
irascible  Captain  McFadden,  of  Sacramento, 
visited  Five  Forks.  During  a  heated  dis 
cussion  in  the  Prairie  Rose  Saloon,  words 
passed  between  the  Captain  and  the  Honor 
able  Calhoun  Bungstarter,  ending  in  a  chal 
lenge.  The  Captain  bore  the  infelix  reputa 
tion  of  being  a  notorious  duellist  and  a  dead 
shot :  the  Captain  was  unpopular ;  the  Cap 
tain  was  believed  to  have  been  sent  by  the 
opposition  for  a  deadly  purpose ;  and  the 
Captain  was,  moreover,  a  stranger.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  that  with  Five  Forks  this  lat 
ter  condition  did  not  carry  the  quality  of 
sanctity  or  reverence  that  usually  obtains 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  199 

among  other  nomads.  There  was  conse 
quently  some  little  hesitation  when  the  Cap 
tain  turned  upon  the  crowd  and  asked  for 
some  one  to  act  as  his  friend.  To  every 
body's  astonishment,  and  to  the  indignation 
of  many,  the  Fool  stepped  forward  and 
offered  himself  in  that  capacity.  I  do  not 
know  whether  Captain  McFadden  would 
have  chosen  him  voluntarily,  but  he  was 
constrained,  in  the  absence  of  a  better  man, 
to  accept  his  services. 

The  duel  never  took  place !  The  pre 
liminaries  were  all  arranged,  the  spot  in 
dicated,  the  men  were  present  with  their 
seconds,  there  was  no  interruption  from 
without,  there  was  no  explanation  or  apol 
ogy  passed,  —  but  the  duel  did  not  take 
place.  It  may  be  readily  imagined  that 
these  facts,  which  were  all  known  to  Five 
Forks,  threw  the  whole  community  into  a 
fever  of  curiosity.  The  principals,  the  sur 
geon,  and  one  second  left  town  the  next  day. 
Only  the  Fool  remained.  lie  resisted  all 
questioning,  declaring  himself  held  in  honor 
not  to  divulge  ;  in  short,  conducted  himself 
with  consistent  but  exasperating  folly.  It 
was  not  until  six  months  had  passed  that 
Colonel  Starbottle,  the  second  of  Calhoun 


200  THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

Bungstarter,  in  a  moment  of  weakness  su 
perinduced  by  the  social  glass,  condescended 
to  explain.  I  should  not  do  justice  to  the 
parties  if  I  did  not  give  that  explanation  in 
the  Colonel's  own  words.  I  may  remark, 
in  passing,  that  the  characteristic  dignity 
of  Colonel  Starbottle  always  became  inten 
sified  by  stimulants,  and  that  by  the  same 
process  all  sense  of  humor  was  utterly  elim 
inated. 

"  With  the  understanding  that  I  am  ad 
dressing  myself  confidentially  to  men  of 
honor,"  said  the  Colonel,  elevating  his  chest 
above  the  bar-room  counter  of  the  Prairie 
Rose  Saloon,  "  I  trust  that  it  will  not  be 
necessary  for  me  to  protect  myself  from  lev 
ity,  as  I  was  forced  to  do  in  Sacramento  on 
the  only  other  occasion  when  I  entered  into 
an  explanation  of  this  delicate  affair  by  —  er 
—  er  —  calling  the  individual  to  a  personal 
account  —  er !  I  do  not  believe,"  added  the 
Colonel,  slightly  waving  his  glass  of  liquor 
in  the  air  with  a  graceful  gesture  of  cour 
teous  deprecation  —  "  knowing  what  I  do  of 
the  present  company  —  that  such  a  course 
of  action  is  required  here.  Certainly  not  — 
sir  —  in  the  home  of  Mr.  Hawkins  — er — > 
the  gentleman  who  represented  Mr.  Bung- 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.  201 

starter,  whose  conduct,  ged,  sir,  is  worthy 
of  praise,  blank  me !  " 

Apparently  satisfied  with  the  gravity  and 
respectful  attention  of  his  listeners,  Colonel 
Starbottle  smiled  relentingly  and  sweetly, 
closed  his  eyes  half  dreamily,  as  if  to  recall 
his  wandering  thoughts,  and  began  :  — 

"  As  the  spot  selected  was  nearest  the 
tenement  of  Mr.  Hawkins,  it  was  agreed  that 
the  parties  should  meet  there.  They  did  so 
promptly  at  half  past  six.  The  morning 
being  chilly,  Mr.  Hawkins  extended  the  hos 
pitalities  of  his  house  with  a  bottle  of  Bour 
bon  whiskey,  of  which  all  partook  but  my 
self.  The  reason  for  that  exception  is,  I 
believe,  well  known.  It  is  my  invariable 
custom  to  take  brandy,  —  a  wineglass  full  in 
a  cup  of  strong  coffee,  immediately  on  ris 
ing.  It  stimulates  the  functions,  sir,  with 
out  producing  any  blank  derangement  of  the 
nerves." 

The  barkeeper,  to  whom,  as  an  expert,  the 
Colonel  had  graciously  imparted  this  infor 
mation,  nodded  approvingly,  and  the  Colo 
nel,  amid  a  breathless  silence,  went  on :  — 

"  We  were  about  twenty  minutes  in  reach 
ing  the  spot.  The  ground  was  measured, 
the  weapons  were  loaded,  when  Mr.  Bung- 


202     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

starter  confided  to  me  the  information  that 
he  was  unwell  and  in  great  pain  !  On  con 
sultation  with  Mr.  Hawkins,  it  appeared  that 
his  principal  in  a  distant  part  of  the  field 
was  also  suffering  and  in  great  pain.  The 
symptoms  were  such  as  a  medical  man  would 
pronounce  '  choleraic.'  I  say  would  have 
pronounced,  for  on  examination  the  surgeon 
was  also  found  to  be  —  er  —  in  pain,  and,  I 
regret  to  say,  expressing  himself  in  language 
unbecoming  the  occasion.  His  impression 
was  that  some  powerful  drug  had  been  ad 
ministered.  On  referring  the  question  to 
Mr.  Hawkins,  he  remembered  that  the  bot 
tle  of  whiskey  partaken  by  them  contained  a 
medicine  which  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
taking,  but  which,  having  failed  to  act  upon 
him,  he  had  concluded  to  be  generally  in 
effective,  and  had  forgotten.  His  perfect 
willingness  to  hold  himself  personally  re 
sponsible  to  each  of  the  parties,  his  genuine 
concern  at  the  disastrous  effect  of  the  mis 
take,  mingled  with  his  own  alarm  at  the 
state  of  his  system,  which  —  er  —  failed  to 
—  er  —  respond  to  the  peculiar  qualities  of 
the  medicine,  was  most  becoming  to  him  as 
a  man  of  honor  and  a  gentleman  !  After 
an  hour's  de]»^r-  both  principals  being  com- 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  203 

pletely  exhausted,  and  abandoned  by  the 
surgeon,  who  was  unreasonably  alarmed  at 
his  own  condition,  Mr.  Hawkins  and  I 
agreed  to  remove  our  men  to  Markleville. 
There,  after  a  further  consultation  with  Mr. 
Hawkins,  an  amicable  adjustment  of  all 
difficulties,  honorable  to  both  parties,  and 
governed  by  profound  secrecy,  was  arranged. 
I  believe,"  added  the  Colonel,  looking 
around  and  setting  down  his  glass,  "  no  gen 
tleman  has  yet  expressed  himself  other  than 
satisfied  with  the  result." 

Perhaps  it  was  the  Colonel's  manner,  but 
whatever  was  the  opinion  of  Five  Forks 
regarding  the  intellectual  display  of  Mr. 
Hawkins  in  this  affair,  there  was  very  little 
outspoken  criticism  at  the  moment.  In  a 
few  weeks  the  whole  thing  was  forgotten, 
except  as  part  of  the  necessary  record  of 
Hawkins'  blunders,  which  was  already  a 
pretty  full  one.  Again  some  later  follies 
conspired  to  obliterate  the  past,  until,  a  year 
later,  a  valuable  lead  was  discovered  in  the 
"  Blazing  Star "  Tunnel,  in  the  hill  where 
he  lived,  and  a  large  sum  was  offered  him 
for  a  portion  of  his  land  on  the  hill-top. 
Accustomed  as  Five  Forks  had  become  to 
the  exhibition  of  his  folly,  it  was  with  aston- 


204  THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

ishment  that  they  learned  that  he  resolutely 
and  decidedly  refused  the  offer.  The  rea 
son  that  he  gave  was  still  more  astounding. 
He  was  about  to  build ! 

To  build  a  house  upon  property  available 
for  mining  purposes  was  preposterous;  to 
build  at  all,  with  a  roof  already  covering 
him,  was  an  act  of  extravagance;  to  build 
a  house  of  the  style  he  proposed  was  simply 
madness ! 

Yet  here  were  facts.  The  plans  were 
made  and  the  lumber  for  the  new  building 
was  already  on  the  ground,  while  the  shaft 
of  the  "  Blazing  Star "  was  being  sunk  be 
low.  The  site  was,  in  reality,  a  very  pictur 
esque  one ;  the  building  itself  of  a  style 
and  quality  hitherto  unknown  in  Five  Forks. 
The  citizens,  at  first  skeptical,  during  their 
moments  of  recreation  and  idleness  gathered 
doubtingly  about  the  locality.  Day  by  day, 
in  that  climate  of  rapid  growths,  the  build 
ing,  pleasantly  known  in  the  slang  of  Five 
Forks  as  "the  Idiot  Asylum,"  rose  beside 
the  green  oaks  and  clustering  firs  of  Haw- 
kins'  Hill,  as  if  it  were  part  of  the  natural 
phenomena.  At  last  it  was  completed. 
Then  Mr.  Hawkins  proceeded  to  furnish  it 
with  an  expensiveness  and  extravagance  of 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKti.  205 

outlay  quite  in  keeping  with  his  former 
idiocy.  Carpets,  sofas,  mirrors,  and  finally 
a  piano  —  the  only  one  known  in  the  county, 
and  brought  at  great  expense  from  Sacra 
mento —  kept  curiosity  at  a  fever  heat. 
More  than  that,  there  were  articles  and 
ornaments  which  a  few  married  experts  de 
clared  only  fit  for  women.  When  the  fur 
nishing  of  the  house  was  complete  —  it  had 
occupied  two  months  of  the  speculative  and 
curious  attention  of  the  camp  —  Mr.  Haw 
kins  locked  the  front  door,  put  the  key  in 
his  pocket,  and  quietly  retired  to  his  more 
humble  roof,  lower  on  the  hillside ! 

I  have  not  deemed  it  necessary  to  indicate 
to  the  intelligent  reader  all  of  the  theories 
which  obtained  in  Five  Forks  during  the 
erection  of  the  building.  Some  of  them 
may  be  readily  imagined.  That  "the  Hag" 
had  by  artful  coyness  and  systematic  ret 
icence  at  last  completely  subjugated  the 
Fool,  and  that  the  new  house  was  intended 
for  the  nuptial  bower  of  the  (predestined) 
unhappy  pair,  was  of  course  the  prevailing 
opinion.  But  when,  after  a  reasonable  time 
had  elapsed,  and  the  house  still  remained 
untenanted,  the  more  exasperating  convic 
tion  forced  itself  upon  the  general  mind  that 


206     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

the  Fool  had  been  for  the  third  time  imposed 
upon.  When  two  months  had  elapsed,  and 
there  seemed  no  prospect  of  a  mistress  for 
the  new  house,  I  think  public  indignation 
became  so  strong  that,  had  "  the  Hag "  ar 
rived,  the  marriage  would  have  been  pub 
licly  prevented.  But  no  one  appeared  that 
seemed  to  answer  to  this  idea  of  an  available 
tenant,  and  all  inquiry  of  Mr.  Hawkins  as 
to  his  intention  in  building  a  house,  and  not 
renting  it  or  occupying  it,  failed  to  elicit 
any  further  information.  The  reasons  that 
he  gave  were  felt  to  be  vague,  evasive,  and 
unsatisfactory.  He  was  in  no  hurry  to 
move,  he  said ;  when  he  was  ready,  it  surely 
was  not  strange  that  he  should  like  to  have 
his  house  all  ready  to  receive  him.  He  was 
often  seen  upon  the  veranda,  of  a  summer 
evening,  smoking  a  cigar.  It  is  reported 
that  one  night  the  house  was  observed  to  be 
brilliantly  lighted  from  garret  to  basement; 
that  a  neighbor,  observing  this,  crept  toward 
the  open  parlor  window,  and,  looking  in, 
espied  the  Fool  accurately  dressed  in  even 
ing  costume,  lounging  upon  a  sofa  in  the 
drawing-room,  with  the  easy  air  of  socially 
entertaining  a  large  party.  Notwithstand 
ing  this,  the  house  was  unmistakably  vacant 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  207 

that  evening,  save  for  the  presence  of  the 
owner,  as  the  witnesses  afterward  testified. 
When  this  story  was  first  related,  a  few 
practical  men  suggested  the  theory  that  Mr. 
Hawkins  was  simply  drilling  himself  in  the 
elaborate  duties  of  hospitality  against  a 
probable  event  in  his  history.  A  few  ven 
tured  the  belief  that  the  house  was  haunted. 
The  imaginative  editor  of  the  Five  Forks 
"Record"  evolved  from  the  depths  of  his 
professional  consciousness  a  story  that  Haw- 
kins'  sweetheart  had  died,  and  that  he  regu 
larly  entertained  her  spirit  in  this  beauti 
fully-furnished  mausoleum.  The  occasional 
spectacle  of  Hawkins'  tall  figure  pacing  the 
veranda  on  moonlight  nights  lent  some  cre 
dence  to  this  theory,  until  an  unlooked-for 
incident  diverted  all  speculation  into  an 
other  channel. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  a  certain  wild, 
rude  valley,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Five 
Forks,  had  become  famous  as  a  picturesque 
resort.  Travellers  had  visited  it,  and  declared 
that  there  were  more  cubic  yards  of  rough 
stone  cliff  and  a  waterfall  of  greater  height 
than  any  they  had  visited.  Correspondents 
had  written  it  up  with  extravagant  rhetoric 
and  inordinate  poetical  quotation.  Men  and 


208      THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORK&. 

women  who  had  never  enjoyed  a  sunset,  a 
tree,  or  a  flower ;  who  had  never  appreciated 
the  graciousness  or  meaning  of  the  yellow 
sunlight  that  flecked  their  homely  doorways, 
or  the  tenderness  of  a  midsummer's  night  to 
whose  moonlight  they  bared  their  shirt-sleeves 
or  their  tulle  dresses,  came  from  thousands 
of  miles  away  to  calculate  the  height  of  this 
rock,  to  observe  the  depth  of  this  chasm,  to 
remark  upon  the  enormous  size  of  this  un 
sightly  tree,  and  to  believe  with  ineffable 
self-complacency  that  they  really  admired 
nature.  And  so  it  came  to  pass  that,  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  tastes  or  weaknesses  of 
the  individual,  the  more  prominent  and  sa 
lient  points  of  the  valley  were  christened, 
and  there  was  a  "  Lace  Handkerchief  Fall," 
and  the  "  Tears  of  Sympathy  Cataract," 
and  one  distinguished  orator's  "  Peak,"  and 
several  "  Mounts "  of  various  noted  peo 
ple,  living  or  dead,  and  an  "  Exclamation 
Point,"  and  a  "  Valley  of  Silent  Adoration." 
And,  in  course  of  time,  empty  soda-water 
bottles  were  found  at  the  base  of  the  cata 
ract,  and  greasy  newspapers  and  fragments 
of  ham  sandwiches  lay  at  the  dusty  roots  of 
giant  trees.  With  this,  there  were  frequent 
irruptions  of  closely  -  shaven  and  tightly- 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  209 

cravated  men  and  delicate-faced  women  in 
the  one  long  street  of  Five  Forks,  and  a 
scampering  of  mules,  and  an  occasional  pro 
cession  of  dusty  brown-linen  cavalry. 

A  year  after  "  Hawkins'  Idiot  Asylum  " 
was  completed,  one  day  there  drifted  into 
the  valley  a  riotous  cavalcade  of  "school- 
marms,"  teachers  of  the  San  Francisco  pub 
lic  schools,  out  for  a  holiday.  Not  severely 
spectacled  Minervas  and  chastely  armed  and 
mailed  Pallases,  but,  I  fear  for  the  security 
of  Five  Forks,  very  human,  charming,  and 
mischievous  young  women.  At  least,  so  the 
men  thought,  working  in  the  ditches  and 
tunnelling  on  the  hillside  ;  and  when,  in  the 
interests  of  Science  and  the  mental  advance 
ment  of  Juvenile  Posterity,  it  was  finally  set 
tled  that  they  should  stay  in  Five  Forks  two 
or  three  days,  for  the  sake  of  visiting  the 
various  mines,  and  particularly  the  Blazing 
Star  Tunnel,  there  was  some  flutter  of  mas 
culine  anxiety.  There  was  a  considerable 
inquiry  for  "  store  clothes,"  a  hopeless  over 
hauling  of  old  and  disused  raiment,  and  a 
general  demand  for  "  boiled  shirts  "  and  the 
barber. 

Meanwhile,   with  that  supreme   audacity 
and  impudent  hardihood  of   the   sex   when 


210     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

gregarious,  the  school-marms  rode  through 
the  town,  admiring  openly  the  handsome 
faces  and  manly  figures  that  looked  up  from 
the  ditches  or  rose  behind  the  cars  of  ore  at 
the  mouths  of  tunnels.  Indeed,  it  is  alleged 
that  Jenny  Forester,  backed  and  supported 
by  seven  other  equally  shameless  young 
women,  had  openly  and  publicly  waved  her 
handkerchief  to  the  florid  Hercules  of  Five 
Forks,  —  one  Tom  Flynn,  formerly  of  Vir 
ginia,  —  leaving  that  good-natured  but  not 
over-bright  giant  pulling  his  blonde  mus 
taches  in  bashful  amazement. 

It  was  a  pleasant  June  afternoon  that 
Miss  Nelly  Arnot,  Principal  of  the  primary 
department  of  one  of  the  public  schools  of 
San  Francisco,  having  evaded  her  compan 
ions,  resolved  to  put  into  operation  a  plan 
which  had  lately  sprung  up  in  her  coura 
geous  and  mischief-loving  fancy.  With  that 
wonderful  and  mysterious  instinct  of  her 
sex,  from  whom  no  secrets  of  the  affections 
are  hid  and  to  whom  all  hearts  are  laid 
open,  she  had  heard  the  story  of  Hawkins' 
folly  and  the  existence  of  the  "  Idiot  Asy 
lum."  Alone,  on  Hawkins'  Hill,  she  had 
determined  to  penetrate  its  seclusion.  Skirt 
ing  the  underbrush  at  the  foot  of  the  hiE, 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     211 

she  managed  to  keep  the  heaviest  timber 
between  herself  and  the  Blazing  Star  Tun 
nel  at  its  base,  as  well  as  the  cabin  of 
Hawkins,  half-way  up  the  ascent,  until,  by 
a  circuitous  route,  at  last  she  reached,  un 
observed,  the  summit.  Before  her  rose, 
silent,  darkened,  and  motionless,  the  object 
of  her  search.  Here  her  courage  failed  her, 
with  all  the  characteristic  inconsequence  of 
her  sex.  A  sudden  fear  of  all  the  dangers 
she  had  safely  passed  —  bears,  tarantulas, 
drunken  men,  and  lizards  —  came  upon  her. 
For  a  moment,  as  she  afterwards  expressed 
it,  "she  thought  she  should  die."  With 
this  belief,  probably,  she  gathered  three 
large  stones,  which  she  could  hardly  lift,  for 
the  purpose  of  throwing  a  great  distance  ; 
put  two  hair-pins  in  her  mouth,  and  care 
fully  readjusted  with  both  hands  two  stray 
braids  of  her  lovely  blue-black  mane  which 
had  fallen  in  gathering  the  stones.  Then 
she  felt  in  the  pockets  of  her  linen  duster 
for  her  card-case,  handkerchief,  pocket-book, 
and  smelling-bottle,  and,  finding  them  intact, 
suddenly  assumed  an  air  of  easy,  ladylike 
unconcern,  went  up  the  steps  of  the  veranda, 
and  demurely  pulled  the  front  door -bell, 
which  she  knew  would  not  be  answered. 


212     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

After  a  decent  pause,  she  walked  around  the, 
encompassing  veranda,  examining  the  closed 
shutters  of  the  French  windows  until  she 
found  one  that  yielded  to  her  touch.  Here 
she  paused  again  to  adjust  her  coquettish 
hat  by  the  mirror-like  surface  of  the  long 
sash  window  that  reflected  the  full  length 
of  her  pretty  figure.  And  then  she  opened 
the  window  and  entered  the  room. 

Although  long  closed,  the  house  had  a 
smell  of  newness  and  of  fresh  paint  that  was 
quite  unlike  the  mouldiness  of  the  conven 
tional  haunted  house.  The  bright  carpets, 
the  cheerful  walls,  the  glistening  oil-cloths, 
were  quite  inconsistent  with  the  idea  of  a 
ghost.  With  childish  curiosity  she  began 
to  explore  the  silent  house,  at  first  timidly, 
—  opening  the  doors  with  a  violent  push, 
and  then  stepping  back  from  the  threshold 
to  make  good  a  possible  retreat ;  and  then 
more  boldly,  as  she  became  convinced  of  her 
security  and  absolute  loneliness.  In  one  of 
the  chambers,  the  largest,  there  were  fresh 
flowers  in  a  vase,  —  evidently  gathered  that 
morning;  and  what  seemed  still  more  re 
markable,  the  pitchers  and  ewers  were 
freshly  filled  with  water.  This  obliged  Miss 
Nelly  to  notice  another  singular  fact,  namely, 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.  213 

that  the  house  was  free  from  dust,  the  one 
most  obtrusive  and  penetrating  visitor  of 
Five  Forks.  The  floors  and  carpets  had 
been  recently  swept,  the  chairs  and  furniture 
carefully  wiped  and  dusted.  If  the  house 
was  haunted,  it  was  possessed  by  a  spirit 
who  had  none  of  the  usual  indifference  to 
decay  and  mould.  And  yet  the  beds  had 
evidently  never  been  slept  in,  the  very 
springs  of  the  chair  in  which  she  sat  creaked 
stiffly  at  the  novelty,  the  closet  doors  opened 
with  the  reluctance  of  fresh  paint  and  var 
nish,  and  in  spite  of  the  warmth,  cleanliness, 
and  cheerfulness  of  furniture  and  decora 
tion  there  was  none  of  the  ease  of  tenancy 
and  occupation.  As  Miss  Nelly  afterwards 
confessed,  she  longed  to  "  tumble  things 
around,"  and  when  she  reached  the  parlor  or 
drawing-room  again  she  could  hardly  resist 
the  desire.  Particularly  was  she  tempted 
by  a  closed  piano,  that  stood  mutely  against 
the  wall.  She  thought  she  would  open  it 
just  to  see  who  was  the  maker.  That  done> 
it  would  be  no  harm  to  try  its  tone.  She 
did  so,  with  one  little  foot  on  the  soft  pedal. 
But  Miss  Nelly  was  too  good  a  player  and 
too  enthusiastic  a  musician  to  stop  at  half 
measures.  She  tried  it  a,gain,  —  this  time 


214     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

so  sincerely  that  the  whole  house  seemed 
to  spring  into  voice.  Then  she  stopped 
and  listened.  There  was  no  response ;  the 
empty  rooms  seemed  to  have  relapsed  into 
their  old  stillness.  She  stepped  out  on  the 
veranda  ;  a  woodpecker  recommenced  his 
tapping  on  an  adjacent  tree,  the  rattle  of  a 
cart  in  the  rocky  gulch  below  the  hill  came 
faintly  up.  No  one  was  to  be  seen,  far 
or  near.  Miss  Nelly,  reassured,  returned. 
She  again  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys, 
stopped,  caught  at  a  melody  running  in  her 
mind,  half  played  it,  and  then  threw  away 
all  caution.  Before  five  minutes  had  elapsed 
she  had  entirely  forgotten  herself,  and,  with 
her  linen  duster  thrown  aside,  her  straw  hat 
flung  on  the  piano,  her  white  hands  bared, 
and  a  black  loop  of  her  braided  hair  hang 
ing  upon  her  shoulder,  was  fairly  embarked 
upon  a  flowing  sea  of  musical  recollection. 

She  had  played  perhaps  half  an  hour, 
when,  having  just  finished  an  elaborate  sym 
phony  and  resting  her  hands  on  the  keys, 
she  heard  very  distinctly  and  unmistakably 
the  sound  of  applause  from  without.  In  an 
instant  the  fires  of  shame  and  indignation 
leaped  into  her  cheeks,  and  she  rose  from 
the  instrument  and  ran  to  the  window,  only 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  215 

in  time  to  catch  sight  of  a  dozen  figures  in 
blue  and  red  flannel  shirts  vanishing  hur 
riedly  through  the  trees  below. 

Miss  Nelly's  mind  was  instantly  made  up. 
I  think  I  have  already  intimated  that  under 
the  stimulus  of  excitement  she  was  not  want 
ing  in  courage,  and  as  she  quietly  resumed 
her  gloves,  hat,  and  duster  she  was  not, 
perhaps,  exactly  the  young  person  that  it 
would  be  entirely  safe  for  the  timid,  embar 
rassed,  or  inexperienced  of  my  sex  to  meet 
alone.  She  shut  down  the  piano,  and  hav 
ing  carefully  reclosed  all  the  windows  and 
doors,  and  restored  the  house  to  its  former 
desolate  condition,  she  stepped  from  the 
veranda  and  proceeded  directly  to  the  cabin 
of  the  unintellectual  Hawkins,  that  reared 
its  adobe  chimney  above  the  umbrage,  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  below. 

The  door  opened  instantly  to  her  impul 
sive  knock,  and  the  Fool  of  Five  Forks  stood 
before  her.  Miss  Nelly  had  never  before 
seen  the  man  designated  by  this  infelicitous 
title,  and  as  he  stepped  backward,  in  half 
courtesy  and  half  astonishment,  she  was  for 
the  moment  disconcerted.  He  was  tall, 
finely  formed,  and  dark-bearded.  Above 
cheeks  a  little  hollowed  by  care  and  ill  health 


216     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS 

shone  a  pair  of  hazel  eyes,  very  large,  very 
gentle,  but  inexpressibly  sad  and  mournful. 
This  was  certainly  not  the  kind  of  man  Miss 
Nelly  had  expected  to  see,  yet,  after  her  first 
embarrassment  had  passed,  the  very  circum 
stance,  oddly  enough,  added  to  her  indigna 
tion  and  stung  her  wounded  pride  still  more 
deeply.  Nevertheless,  the  arch  hypocrite 
instantly  changed  her  tactics,  with  the  swift 
intuition  of  her  sex. 

44 1  have  come,"  she  said,  with  a  dazzling 
smile,  infinitely  more  dangerous  than  her 
former  dignified  severity,  "  I  have  come  to 
ask  your  pardon  for  a  great  liberty  I  have 
just  taken.  I  believe  the  new  house  above  us 
on  the  hill  is  yours.  I  was  so  much  pleased 
with  its  exterior  that  I  left  my  friends  for  a 
moment  below  here,"  she  continued  artfully, 
with  a  slight  wave  of  the  hand,  as  if  indi 
cating  a  band  of  fearless  Amazons  without, 
and  waiting  to  avenge  any  possible  insult 
offered  to  one  of  their  number,  "  and  ven 
tured  to  enter  it.  Finding  it  unoccupied,  as 
I  had  been  told,  I  am  afraid  I  had  the  au 
dacity  to  sit  down  and  amuse  myself  for  a 
few  moments  at  the  piano,  while  waiting  for 
my  friends." 

Hawkins  raised  his  beautiful  eyes  to  hers. 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     217 

He  saw  a  very  pretty  girl,  with  frank  gray 
eyes  glistening  with  excitement,  with  two 
red,  slightly  freckled  cheeks,  glowing  a  little 
under  his  eyes,  with  a  short  scarlet  upper  lip 
turned  back,  like  a  rose  leaf,  over  a  little 
line  of  white  teeth,  as  she  breathed  somewhat 
hurriedly  in  her  nervous  excitement.  He 
saw  all  this  calmly,  quietly,  and,  save  for  the 
natural  uneasiness  of  a  shy,  reticent  man,  I 
fear  without  a  quickening  of  his  pulse. 

"  I  knowed  it,"  he  said  simply.  "  I  heerd 
ye  as  I  kem  up." 

Miss  Nelly  was  furious  at  his  grammar, 
his  dialect,  his  coolness,  and  still  more  at  the 
suspicion  that  he  was  an  active  member  of 
her  invisible  claque. 

"  Ah,"  she  said,  still  smiling,  "  then  I 
think  I  heard  you  "  — 

"I  reckon  not,"  he  interrupted  gravely. 
"  I  did  n't  stay  long.  I  found  the  boys 
hanging  round  the  house,  and  I  allowed  at 
first  I  'd  go  in  and  kinder  warn  you ;  but 
they  promised  to  keep  still,  and  you  looked 
so  comfortable  and  wrapped  up  in  your  mu 
sic  that  I  had  n't  the  heart  to  disturb  you, 
and  kem  away.  I  hope,"  he  added  earnestly, 
"  they  did  n't  let  on  ez  they  heerd  you.  They 
aint  a  bad  lot,  —  them  Blazin'  Star  boys, — • 


218     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

though  they  're  a  little  hard  at  times.  But 
they'd  no  more  hurt  ye  than  they  would 
a — a  —  a  cat!"  continued  Mr.  Hawkins, 
blushing  with  a  faint  apprehension  of  the  in 
elegance  of  his  simile. 

"  No  !  no  !  "  said  Miss  Nelly,  feeling  sud 
denly  very  angry  with  herself,  the  Fool,  and 
the  entire  male  population  of  Five  Forks. 
"  No  !  I  have  behaved  foolishly,  I  suppose, 
and  if  they  had  it  would  have  served  me 
right.  But  I  only  wanted  to  apologize  to 
you.  You  '11  find  everything  as  you  left  it. 
Good-day!" 

She  turned  to  go.  Mr.  Hawkins  began 
to  feel  embarrassed.  "  I  'd  have  asked  ye 
to  sit  down,"  he  said,  finally,  "  if  it  hed  been 
a  place  fit  for  a  lady.  I  oughter  done  so, 
enny  way.  I  don't  know  what  kept  me  from 
it.  But  I  ain't  well,  Miss.  Times  I  get  a 
sort  o'  dumb  ager,  —  it 's  the  ditches,  I  think, 
Miss,  —  and  I  don't  seem  to  hev  my  wits 
about  me." 

Instantly  Miss  Arnot  was  all  sympathy ; 
her  quick  woman's  heart  was  touched. 

"  Can  I  —  can  anything  be  done  ?  "  she 
asked,  more  timidly  than  she  had  before 
spoken. 

"  No  !  —  not  onless  ye  remember  suthin' 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     219 

about  these  pills."  He  exhibited  a  box 
containing  about  half  a  dozen.  "I  forget 
the  direction,  —  I  don't  seem  to  remember 
much,  any  way,  these  times,  —  they  're  Jones' 
Vegetable  Compound.  If  ye  've  ever  took 
'em  ye  '11  remember  whether  the  reg'lar  dose 
is  eight.  They  ain't  but  six  here.  But  per 
haps  ye  never  tuk  any,"  he  added  deprecat- 
ingly. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Nelly,  curtly.  She  had 
usually  a  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  but 
somehow  Mr.  Hawkins'  eccentricity  only 
pained  her. 

"  Will  you  let  me  see  you  to  the  foot  of 
the  hill  ?  "  he  said  again,  after  another  em 
barrassing  pause. 

Miss  Arnot  felt  instantly  that  such  an  act 
would  condone  her  trespass  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world.  She  might  meet  some  of  her 
invisible  admirers,  or  even  her  compan 
ions  ;  and,  with  all  her  erratic  impulses, 
she  was  nevertheless  a  woman,  and  did  not 
entirely  despise  the  verdict  of  convention 
ality.  She  smiled  sweetly  and  assented,  and 
in  another  moment  the  two  were  lost  in  the 
shadows  of  the  wood. 

Like  many  other  apparently  trivial  acts 
in  an  uneventful  life,  it  was  decisive.  As 


220  THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

she  expected,  she  met  two  or  three  of  her 
late  applauders,  whom,  she  fancied,  looked 
sheepish  and  embarrassed  ;  she  met  also  her 
companions,  looking  for  her  in  some  alarm, 
who  really  appeared  astonished  at  her  escort, 
and,  she  fancied,  a  trifle  envious  of  her  evi 
dent  success.  I  fear  that  Miss  Arnot,  in 
response  to  their  anxious  inquiries,  did  not 
state  entirely  the  truth,  but,  without  actual 
assertion,  led  them  to  believe  that  she  had 
at  a  very  early  stage  of  the  proceeding  com 
pletely  subjugated  this  weak-minded  giant, 
and  had  brought  him  triumphantly  to  her 
feet.  From  telling  this  story  two  or  three 
times  she  got  finally  to  believing  that  she 
had  some  foundation  for  it,  then  to  a  vague 
sort  of  desire  that  it  would  eventually  prove 
to  be  true,  and  then  to  an  equally  vague 
yearning  to  hasten  that  consummation.  That 
it  would  redound  to  any  satisfaction  of  the 
Fool  she  did  not  stop  to  doubt.  That  it 
would  cure  him  of  his  folly  she  was  quite 
confident.  Indeed,  there  are  very  few  of 
us  —  men  or  women  —  who  do  not  believe 
that  even  a  hopeless  love  for  ourselves  is 
more  conducive  to  the  salvation  of  the  lover 
than  a  requited  affection  for  another. 

The  criticism  of  Five  Forks  was,  as  the 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  221 

reader  may  imagine,  swift  and  conclusive. 
When  it  was  found  out  that  Miss  Arnot  was 
not  "the  Hag"  masquerading  as  a  young 
and  pretty  girl,  to  the  ultimate  deception  of 
Five  Forks  in  general  and  the  Fool  in  par 
ticular,  it  was  decided  at  once  that  nothing 
but  the  speedy  union  of  the  Fool  and  the 
"  pretty  school-marm "  was  consistent  with 
ordinary  common  sense.  The  singular  good 
fortune  of  Hawkins  was  quite  in  accordance 
with  the  theory  of  his  luck  as  propounded 
by  the  camp.  That  after  "  the  Hag  "  failed 
to  make  her  appearance  he  should  "  strike  a 
lead  "  in.  his  own  house,  without  the  trouble 
of  "  prospecting"  seemed  to  these  casuists  as 
a  wonderful  but  inevitable  law.  To  add  to 
these  fateful  probabilities,  Miss  Arnot  fell 
and  sprained  her  ankle  in  the  ascent  of 
Mount  Lincoln,  and  was  confined  for  some 
weeks  to  the  hotel  after  her  companions  had 
departed.  During  this  period  Hawkins  was 
civilly  but  grotesquely  attentive.  When, 
after  a  reasonable  time  had  elapsed,  there 
still  appeared  to  be  no  immediate  prospect 
of  the  occupancy  of  the  new  house,  public 
opinion  experienced  a  singular  change  in  re 
gard  to  its  theories  of  Mr.  Hawkins'  con 
duct.  "  The  Hag "  was  looked  upon  as  a 


222     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

saint-like  and  long-suffering  martyr  to  the 
weaknesses  and  inconsistency  of  the  Fool. 
That,  after  erecting  this  new  house  at  her 
request,  he  had  suddenly  "  gone  back  "  on 
her  ;  that  his  celibacy  was  the  result  of  a 
long  habit  of  weak  proposal  and  subsequent 
shameless  rejection ;  and  that  he  was  now 
trying  his  hand  on  the  helpless  school-marm, 
was  perfectly  plain  to  Five  Forks.  That  he 
should  be  frustrated  in  his  attempts  at  any 
cost  was  equally  plain.  Miss  Nelly  suddenly 
found  herself  invested  with  a  rude  chivalry 
that  would  have  been  amusing  had  it  not 
been  at  times  embarrassing;  that  would 
have  been  impertinent  but  for  the  almost 
superstitious  respect  with  which  it  was  prof 
fered.  Every  day  somebody  from  Five 
Forks  rode  out  to  inquire  the  health  of  the 
fair  patient.  "  Hez  Hawkins  bin  over  yer 
to-day?"  queried  Tom  Flynn,  with  artful 
ease  and  indifference,  as  he  leaned  over  Miss 
Nelly's  easy-chair  on  the  veranda.  Miss 
Nelly,  with  a  faint  pink  flush  on  her  cheek, 
was  constrained  to  answer  "No."  "Well, 
he  sorter  sprained  his  foot  agin  a  rock  yes 
terday,"  continued  Flynn,  with  shameless 
untruthfulness.  "  You  mus'  n't  think  any 
thing  o'  that,  Miss  Arnot.  He  '11  be  over 


THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS.  223 

yer  to-morrer,  and  meantime  he  told  me  to 
hand  this  yer  bookay  with  his  regards,  and 
this  yer  specimen  !  "  And  Mr.  Flynn  laid 
down  the  flowers  he  had  picked  en  route 
against  such  an  emergency,  and  presented 
respectfully  a  piece  of  quartz  and  gold  which 
he  had  taken  that  morning  from  his  own 
sluice-box.  "  You  mus'  n't  mind  Hawkins' 
ways,  Miss  Nelly,"  said  another  sympathiz 
ing  miner.  "There  ain't  a  better  man  in 
camp  than  that  theer  Cy  Hawkins !  —  but 
he  don't  understand  the  ways  o'  the  world 
with  wimen.  He  hasn't  mixed  as  much 
with  society  as  the  rest  of  us,"  he  added, 
with  an  elaborate  Chesterfieldian  ease  of 
manner,  "  but  he  means  well."  Meanwhile 
a  few  other  sympathetic  tunnel-men  were  im 
pressing  upon  Mr.  Hawkins  the  necessity  of 
the  greatest  attention  to  the  invalid.  "It 
won't  do,  Hawkins,"  they  explained,  "  to  let 
that  there  gal  go  back  to  San  Francisco  and 
say  that  when  she  was  sick  and  alone,  the 
only  man  in  Five  Forks  under  whose  roof 
she  had  rested,  and  at  whose  table  she  had 
sat"  —  this  was  considered  a  natural  but 
pardonable  exaggeration  of  rhetoric  —  "  ever 
threw  off  on  her ;  and  it  sha'n't  be  done.  It 
ain't  the  square  thing  to  Five  Forks."  And 


224  THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

then  the  Fool  would  rush  away  to  the  val 
ley,  and  be  received  by  Miss  Nelly  with  a 
certain  reserve  of  manner  that  finally  dis 
appeared  in  a  flush  of  color,  some  increased 
vivacity,  and  a  pardonable  coquetry.  And 
so  the  days  passed  ;  Miss  Nelly  grew  better 
in  health  and  more  troubled  in  mind,  and 
Mr.  Hawkins  became  more  and  more  embar 
rassed,  and  Five  Forks  smiled  and  rubbed 
its  hands,  and  waited  for  the  approaching 
denouement.  And  then  it  came.  But  not 
perhaps  in  the  manner  that  Five  Forks  had 
imagined. 

It  was  a  lovely  afternoon  in  July  that 
a  party  of  Eastern  tourists  rode  into  Five 
Forks.  They  had  just  "  done  "  the  Valley 
of  Big  Things,  and  there  being  one  or  two 
Eastern  capitalists  among  the  party,  it  was 
deemed  advisable  that  a  proper  knowledge 
of  the  practical  mining  resources  of  Califor 
nia  should  be  added  to  their  experience  of 
the  merely  picturesque  in  Nature.  Thus 
far  everything  had  been  satisfactory ;  the 
amount  of  water  which  passed  over  the  Fall 
was  large,  owing  to  a  backward  season ; 
some  snow  still  remained  in  the  canons  near 
the  highest  peaks ;  they  had  ridden  round 
Dne  of  the  biggest  trees,  and  through  the 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     225 

prostrate  trunk  of  another.  To  say  that 
they  were  delighted  is  to  express  feebly  the 
enthusiasm  of  these  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
drunk  with  the  champagny  hospitality  of 
their  entertainers,  the  utter  novelty  of  scene, 
and  the  dry,  exhilarating  air  of  the  valley. 
One  or  two  had  already  expressed  them 
selves  ready  to  live  and  die  there ;  another 
had  written  a  glowing  account  to  the  East 
ern  press,  depreciating  all  other  scenery  in 
Europe  and  America ;  and  under  these  cir 
cumstances  it  was  reasonably  expected  that 
Five  Forks  would  do  its  duty,  and  equally 
impress  the  stranger  after  its  own  fashion. 

Letters  to  this  effect  were  sent  from  San 
Francisco  by  prominent  capitalists  there, 
and  under  the  able  superintendence  of  one 
of  their  agents,  the  visitors  were  taken  in 
hand,  shown  "what  was  to  be  seen,"  care 
fully  restrained  from  observing  what  ought 
not  to  be  visible,  and  so  kept  in  a  bliss 
ful  and  enthusiastic  condition.  And  so  the 
graveyard  of  Five  Forks,  in  which  but  two 
of  the  occupants  had  died  natural  deaths, 
the  dreary,  ragged  cabins  on  the  hillsides, 
with  their  sad-eyed,  cynical,  broken-spirited 
occupants,  toiling  on,  day  by  day,  for  a  mis 
erable  pittance  and  a  fare  that  a  self-respect- 


226     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

ing  Eastern  mechanic  would  have  scornfully 
rejected,  were  not  a  part  of  the  Eastern  vis 
itors'  recollection.  But  the  hoisting  works 
and  machinery  of  the  Blazing  Star  Tunnel 
Company  was  —  the  Blazing  Star  Tunnel 
Company,  whose  "  gentlemanly  Superinten 
dent  "  had  received  private  information 
from  San  Francisco  to  do  the  "  proper 
thing  "  for  the  party.  Wherefore  the  valu 
able  heaps  of  ore  in  the  company's  works 
were  shown,  the  oblong  bars  of  gold  —  ready 
for  shipment  —  were  playfully  offered  to  the 
ladies  who  could  lift  and  carry  them  away 
unaided,  and  even  the  tunnel  itself,  gloomy, 
fateful,  and  peculiar,  was  shown  as  part  of 
the  experience ;  and,  in  the  noble  language 
of  one  correspondent,  "  the  wealth  of  Five 
Forks  and  the  peculiar  inducements  that  it 
offered  to  Eastern  capitalists  "  were  estab 
lished  beyond  a  doubt.  And  then  occurred 
a  little  incident  which,  as  an  unbiassed  spec 
tator,  I  am  free  to  say  offered  no  induce 
ments  to  anybody  whatever,  but  which,  for 
its  bearing  upon  the  central  figure  of  this 
veracious  chronicle,  I  cannot  pass  over. 

It  had  become  apparent  to  one  or  two 
more  practical  and  sober-minded  in  the  party 
that  certain  portions  of  the  Blazing  Star 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     227 

Tunnel  —  (owing,  perhaps,  to  the  exigencies 
of  a  flattering  annual  dividend)  —  were  eco 
nomically  and  imperfectly  "  shored "  and 
supported,  and  were  consequently  unsafe, 
insecure,  and  to  be  avoided.  Nevertheless, 
at  a  time  when  champagne  corks  were  pop 
ping  in  dark  corners,  and  enthusiastic  voices 
and  happy  laughter  rang  through  the  half- 
lighted  levels  and  galleries,  there  came  a 
sudden  and  mysterious  silence.  A  few  lights 
dashed  swiftly  by  in  the  direction  of  a  dis 
tant  part  of  the  gallery,  and  then  there  was 
a  sudden  sharp  issuing  of  orders,  and  a  dull, 
ominous  rumble.  Some  of  the  visitors 
turned  pale  —  one  woman  fainted ! 

Something  had  happened.  What  ?  "  Noth 
ing  "  —  the  speaker  is  fluent  but  uneasy  — 
"  one  of  the  gentlemen  in  trying  to  dislodge 
a  '  specimen '  from  the  wall  had  knocked 
away  a  support.  There  had  been  a  '  cave  ' 
—  the  gentleman  was  caught  and  buried  be 
low  his  shoulders.  It  was  all  right  —  they  'd 
get  him  out  in  a  moment  —  only  it  required 
great  care  to  keep  from  extending  the  '  cave.' 
Did  n't  know  his  name  —  it  was  that  little 
man  —  the  husband  of  that  lively  lady  with 
the  black  eyes.  Eh!  Hullo  there!  Stop 
her  !  For  God's  sake !  --—  not  that  way  ! 


228  THE  FOOL   OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

Shell  fall  from  that  shaft!  She'll  be 
killed!" 

But  the  lively  lady  was  already  gone. 
With  staring  black  eyes,  imploringly  trying 
to  pierce  the  gloom,  with  hands  and  feet  that 
sought  to  batter  and  break  down  the  thick 
darkness,  with  incoherent  cries  and  suppli 
cations,  following  the  moving  of  ignis  fatuus 
lights  ahead,  she  ran  and  ran  swiftly  !  Ran 
over  treacherous  foundations,  ran  by  yawn 
ing  gulfs,  ran  past  branching  galleries  and 
arches,  ran  wildly,  ran  despairingly,  ran 
blindly,  and  at  last  ran  into  the  arms  of  the 
Fool  of  Five  Forks. 

In  an  instant  she  caught  at  his  hand. 
"Oh,  save  him!"  she  cried;  "you  belong 
here  —  you  know  this  dreadful  place ;  bring 
me  to  him.  Tell  me  where  to  go  and  what 
to  do,  I  implore  you  !  Quick,  he  is  dying ! 
Come  ! " 

He  raised  his  eyes  to  hers,  and  then,  with 
a  sudden  cry,  dropped  the  rope  and  crowbar 
he  was  carrying,  and  reeled  against  the 
wall.  "  Annie  !  "  he  gasped,  slowly,  "  is  it 
you?" 

She  caught  at  both  his  hands,  brought 
her  face  to  his  with  staring  eyes,  murmured 
"  Good  God,  Cyrus ! "  and  sank  upon  her 
knees  before  him. 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.  229 

He  tried  to  disengage  the  hand  that  she 
wrung  with  passionate  entreaty. 

"  No,  no !  Cyrus,  you  will  forgive  me  — 
you  will  forget  the  past !  God  has  sent  you 
here  to-day.  You  will  come  with  me.  You 
will  —  you  must  —  save  him  !  " 

"  Save  who  ?  "  cried  Cyrus  hoarsely. 

"My  husband!" 

The  blow  was  so  direct  —  so  strong  and 
overwhelming  —  that  even  through  her  own 
stronger  and  more  selfish  absorption  she  saw 
it  in  the  face  of  the  man,  and  pitied  him. 

"  I  thought  —  you  —  knew  —  it !  "  she 
faltered.  He  did  not  speak,  but  looked  at 
her  with  fixed,  dumb  eyes.  And  then  the 
sound  of  distant  voices  and  hurrying  feet 
started  her  again  into  passionate  life.  She 
once  more  caught  his  hand. 

"  Oh,  Cyrus !  hear  me !  If  you  have 
loved  me  through  all  these  years,  you  will 
not  fail  me  now.  You  must  save  him !  You 
can  !  You  are  brave  and  strong  —  you 
always  were,  Cyrus!  You  will  save  him, 
Cyrus,  for  my  sake  —  for  the  sake  of  your 
love  for  me !  You  will  —  I  know  it !  God 
bless  you !  " 

She  rose  as  if  to  follow  him,  but  at  a  ges 
ture  of  command  she  stood  still.  He  picked 


230     THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

up  the  rope  and  crowbar  slowly,  and  in  a 
dazed,  blinded  way  that,  in  her  agony  of  im 
patience  and  alarm,  seemed  protracted  to 
cruel  infinity.  Then  he  turned,  and  raising 
her  hand  to  his  lips,  he  kissed  it  slowly, 
looked  at  her  again  —  and  the  next  moment 
was  gone. 

He  did  not  return.  For  at  the  end  of  the 
next  half-hour,  when  they  laid  before  her 
the  half-conscious,  breathing  body  of  her 
husband,  safe  and  unharmed  but  for  ex 
haustion  and  some  slight  bruises,  she  learned 
that  the  worst  fears  of  the  workmen  had 
been  realized.  In  releasing  him  a  second 
"  cave  "  had  taken  place.  They  had  barely 
time  to  snatch  away  the  helpless  body  of  her 
husband  before  the  strong  frame  of  his  res 
cuer,  Cyrus  Hawkins,  was  struck  and  smit 
ten  down  in  his  place. 

For  two  hours  he  lay  there  crushed  and 
broken-limbed,  with  a  broken  beam  lying 
across  his  breast,  in  sight  of  all,  conscious 
and  patient.  For  two  hours  they  had  la 
bored  around  him,  wildly,  despairingly, 
hopefully,  with  the  wills  of  gods  and  the 
strength  of  giants,  and  at  the  end  of  that 
time  they  came  to  an  upright  timber  which 
rested  its  base  upon  the  beam.  There  was 


THE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS.     231 

a  cry  for  axes,  and  one  was  already  swing 
ing  in  the  air,  when  the  dying  man  called  to 
them,  feebly  — 

"  Don't  cut  that  upright !  " 

"Why?" 

"It  will  bring  down  the  whole  gallery 
with  it." 

"How?" 

"  It 's  one  of  the  foundations  of  my  house." 

The  axe  fell  from  the  workman's  hand, 
and  with  a  blanched  face  he  turned  to  his 
fellows.  It  was  too  true.  They  were  in  the 
uppermost  gallery,  and  the  "  cave "  had 
taken  place  directly  below  the  new  house. 
After  a  pause,  the  Fool  spoke  again,  more 
feebly. 

"The  lady!— quick!" 

They  brought  her  —  a  wretched,  fainting 
creature,  with  pallid  face  and  streaming 
eyes  —  and  fell  back  as  she  bent  her  face 
above  him. 

"  It  was  built  for  you,  Annie,  darling,"  he 
said  in  a  hurried  whisper,  "  and  has  been 
waiting  up  there  for  you  and  me  all  these 
long  days.  It 's  deeded  to  you,  Annie,  and 
you  must  —  live  there  —  with  him !  He 
will  not  mind  that  I  shall  be  always  near 
you  —  for  it  stands  above  —  my  grave !  " 


232     TEE  FOOL  OF  FIVE  FORKS. 

And  he  was  right.  In  a  few  minutes  later, 
when  he  had  passed  away,  they  did  not  move 
him,  but  sat  by  his  body  all  night,  with  a 
torch  at  his  feet  and  head.  And  the  next 
day  they  walled  up  the  gallery  as  a  vault, 
but  they  put  no  mark  or  any  sign  thereon, 
trusting  rather  to  the  monument  that,  bright 
and  cheerful,  rose  above  him  in  the  sunlight 
of  the  hill.  For  they  said :  "  This  is  not  an 
evidence  of  death  and  gloom  and  sorrow,  as 
are  other  monuments,  but  is  a  sign  of  Life 
and  Light  and  Hope,  wherefore  shall  all 
men  know  that  he  who  lies  under  it  —  is  a 
Fool ! " 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO 
HOLLOW. 

THE  latch  on  the  garden  gate  of  the 
Folinsbee  Ranch  clicked  twice.  The  gate 
itself  was  so  much  in  shadow,  that  lovely 
night,  that  "  old  man  Folinsbee,"  sitting  on 
his  porch,  could  distinguish  nothing  but  a 
tall  white  hat  and  beside  it  a  few  fluttering 
ribbons,  under  the  pines  that  marked  the 
entrance.  Whether  because  of  this  fact,  or 
that  he  considered  a  sufficient  time  had 
elapsed  since  the  clicking  of  the  latch  for 
more  positive  disclosure,  I  do  not  know ;  but 
after  a  few  moments'  hesitation  he  quietly 
laid  aside  his  pipe  and  walked  slowly  down 
the  winding  path  toward  the  gate.  At  the 
Ceanothus  hedge  he  stopped  and  listened. 

There  was  not  much  to  hear.  The  hat 
was  saying  to  the  ribbons  that  it  was  a  fine 
night,  and  remarking  generally  upon  the 
clear  outline  of  the  Sierras  against  the  blue- 
black  sky.  The  ribbop.s,  it  so  appeared, 


234      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

had  admired  this  all  the  way  home,  and 
asked  the  hat  if  it  had  ever  seen  anything 
half  so  lovely  as  the  moonlight  on  the  sum 
mit.  The  hat  never  had ;  it  recalled  some 
lovely  nights  in  the  South  in  Alabama  ("  in 
the  South  in  Ahlabahm  "  was  the  way  the 
old  man  heard  it),  but  then  there  were  other 
things  that  made  this  night  seem  so  pleas 
ant.  The  ribbons  could  not  possibly  con 
ceive  what  the  hat  could  be  thinking  about. 
At  this  point  there  was  a  pause,  of  which 
Mr.  Folinsbee  availed  himself  to  walk  very 
grimly  and  craunchingly  down  the  gravel- 
walk  toward  the  gate.  Then  the  hat  was 
lifted,  and  disappeared  in  the  shadow,  and 
Mr.  Folinsbee  confronted  only  the  half-fool 
ish,  half-mischievous,  but  wholly  pretty  face 
of  his  daughter. 

It  was  afterwards  known  to  Madrono  Hol 
low  that  sharp  words  passed  between  "  Miss 
Jo "  and  the  old  man,  and  that  the  latter 
coupled  the  names  of  one  Culpepper  Star- 
bottle  and  his  uncle,  Colonel  Starbottle,  with 
certain  uncomplimentary  epithets,  and  that 
Miss  Jo  retaliated  sharply.  "  Her  father's 
blood  before  her  father's  face  boiled  up  and 
proved  her  truly  of  his  race,"  quoted  the 
blacksmith,  who  leaned  toward  the  noble 


ROMANCE    OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.      285 

verse  of  Byron.  "  She  saw  the  old  man's 
bluff  and  raised  him,"  was  the  directer  com 
ment  of  the  college-bred  Masters. 

Meanwhile  the  subject  of  these  animad 
versions  proceeded  slowly  along  the  road  to 
a  point  where  the  Folinsbee  mansion  came 
in  view,  —  a  long,  narrow,  white  building, 
unpretentious,  yet  superior  to  its  neighbors, 
and  bearing  some  evidences  of  taste  and  re 
finement  in  the  vines  that  clambered  over 
its  porch,  in  its  French  windows,  and  the 
white  muslin  curtains  that  kept  out  the 
fierce  California  sun  by  day,  and  were  now 
touched  with  silver  in  the  gracious  moon 
light.  Culpepper  leaned  against  the  low 
fence,  and  gazed  long  and  earnestly  at  the 
building.  Then  the  moonlight  vanished, 
ghostlike,  from  one  of  the  windows,  a  ma 
terial  glow  took  its  place,  and  a  girlish 
figure,  holding  a  candle,  drew  the  white 
curtains  together.  To  Culpepper  it  was  a 
vestal  virgin  standing  before  a  hallowed 
shrine ;  to  the  prosaic  observer  I  fear  it  was 
only  a  dark -haired  young  woman,  whose 
wicked  black  eyes  still  shone  with  unfilial 
warmth.  Howbeit,  when  the  figure  had  dis 
appeared  he  stepped  out  briskly  into  the 
moonlight  of  the  high-road.  Here  he  took 


236      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

off  his  distinguishing  hat  to  wipe  his  fore 
head,  and  the  moon  shone  full  upon  his  face. 

It  was  not  an  unprepossessing  one,  albeit 
a  trifle  too  thin  and  lank  and  bilious  to  be 
altogether  pleasant.  The  cheek-bones  were 
prominent,  and  the  black  eyes  sunken  in 
their  orbits.  Straight  black  hair  fell  slant 
wise  off  a  high  but  narrow  forehead,  and 
swept  part  of  a  hollow  cheek.  A  long  black 
mustache  followed  the  perpendicular  curves 
of  his  mouth.  It  was  on  the  whole  a  seri 
ous,  even  Quixotic  face,  but  at  times  it  was 
relieved  by  a  rare  smile  of  such  tender  and 
even  pathetic  sweetness,  that  Miss  Jo  is  re 
ported  to  have  said  that,  if  it  would  only 
last  through  the  ceremony,  she  would  have 
married  its  possessor  on  the  spot.  "  I  once 
told  him  so,"  added  that  shameless  young 
woman ;  "  but  the  man  instantly  fell  into 
a  settled  melancholy,  and  has  n't  smiled 
since." 

A  half-mile  below  the  Folinsbee  Ranch 
the  white  road  dipped  and  was  crossed  by 
a  trail  that  ran  through  Madrorio  Hollow. 
Perhaps  because  it  was  a  near  cut-off  to  the 
settlement,  perhaps  from  some  less  practical 
reason,  Culpepper  took  this  trail,  and  in  a 
few  moments  stood  among  the  rarely  beauti* 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.   237 

ful  trees  that  gave  their  name  to  the  val 
ley.  Even  in  that  uncertain  light  the  weird 
beauty  of  these  harlequin  masqueraders  was 
apparent ;  their  red  trunks  —  a  blush  in  the 
moonlight,  a  deep  blood-stain  in  the  shadow 
—  stood  out  against  the  silvery  green  foli 
age.  It  was  as  if  Nature  in  some  gracious 
moment  had  here  caught  and  crystallized 
the  gypsy  memories  of  the  transplanted 
Spaniard,  to  cheer  him  in  his  lonely  exile. 

As  Culpepper  entered  the  grove,  he  heard 
loud  voices.  As  he  turned  toward  a  clump 
of  trees,  a  figure  so  bizarre  and  character*, 
istic  that  it  might  have  been  a  resident 
Daphne  —  a  figure  overdressed  in  crimson 
silk  and  lace,  with  bare  brown  arms  and 
shoulders,  and  a  wreath  of  honeysuckle  — > 
stepped  out  of  the  shadow.  It  was  followed 
by  a  man.  Culpepper  started.  To  come  to 
the  point  briefly,  he  recognized  in  the  man 
the  features  of  his  respected  uncle,  Colonel 
Starbottle  ;  in  the  female,  a  lady  who  may 
be  briefly  described  as  one  possessing  ab 
solutely  no  claim  to  an  introduction  to  the 
polite  reader.  To  hurry  over  equally  un 
pleasant  details,  both  were  evidently  under 
the  influence  of  liquor. 

From  the  excited  conversation  that  ensued, 


238      ROMANCE   OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

Culpepper  gathered  that  some  insult  had 
been  put  upon  the  lady  at  a  public  ball 
which  she  had  attended  that  evening  ;  that 
the  Colonel,  her  escort,  had  failed  to  resent 
it  with  the  sanguinary  completeness  that  she 
desired.  I  regret  that,  even  in  a  liberal  age, 
I  may  not  record  the  exact  and  even  pic 
turesque  language  in  which  this  was  con 
veyed  to  her  hearers.  Enough  that,  at  the 
close  of  a  fiery  peroration,  with  feminine  in 
consistency  she  flew  at  the  gallant  Colonel, 
and  would  have  visited  her  delayed  ven 
geance  upon  his  luckless  head,  but  for  the 
prompt  interference  of  Culpepper.  Thwarted 
in  this,  she  threw  herself  upon  the  ground, 
and  then  into  unpicturesque  hysterics.  There 
was  a  fine  moral  lesson,  not  only  in  this  gro 
tesque  performance  of  a  sex  which  cannot 
afford  to  be  grotesque,  but  in  the  ludicrous 
concern  with  which  it  inspired  the  two  men. 
Culpepper,  to  whom  woman  was  more  or 
less  angelic,  was  pained  and  sympathetic ; 
the  Colonel,  to  whom  she  was  more  or  less 
improper,  was  exceedingly  terrified  and  em 
barrassed.  Howbeit  the  storm  was  soon 
over,  and  after  Mistress  Dolores  had  re 
turned  a  little  dagger  to  its  sheath  (her  gar 
ter),  she  quietly  took  herself  out  of  Madrono 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.      239 

Hollow,  and  happily  out  of  these  pages  for 
ever.  Tke  two  men,  left  to  themselves,  con 
versed  in  low  tones.  Dawn  stole  upon  them 
before  they  separated :  the  Colonel  quite 
sobered  and  in  full  possession  of  his  -usual 
jaunty  self-assertion  ;  Culpepper  with  a  bale 
ful  glow  in  his  hollow  cheek,  and  in  his  dark 
eyes  a  rising  fire. 

The  next  morning  the  general  ear  of  Ma 
drono  Hollow  was  filled  with  rumors  of  the 
Colonel's  mishap.  It  was  asserted  that  he 
had  been  invited  to  withdraw  his  female  com 
panion  from  the  floor  of  the  Assembly  Ball 
at  the  Independence  Hotel,  and  that,  failing 
to  do  this,  both  were  expelled.  It  is  to  be 
regretted  that  in  1854  public  opinion  was 
divided  in  regard  to  the  propriety  of  this 
step,  and  that  there  was  some  discussion  as 
to  the  comparative  virtue  of  the  ladies  who 
were  not  expelled  ;  but  it  was  generally  con 
ceded  that  the  real  casus  belli  was  political. 
"  Is  this  a  dashed  Puritan  meeting  ?  "  had 
asked  the  Colonel,  savagely.  "  It  's  no  Pike 
County  shindig,"  had  responded  the  floor- 
manager,  cheerfully.  "  You  're  a  Yank  !  " 
had  screamed  the  Colonel,  profanely  qualify- 
ing  the  noun.  "  Get !  you  border  ruffian," 
was  the  reply.  Such  at  least  was  the  sub- 


240      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

stance  of  the  reports.  As,  at  that  sincere 
epoch,  expressions  like  the  above  were  usu 
ally  followed  by  prompt  action,  a  fracas  was 
confidently  looked  for. 

Nothing,  however,  occurred.  Colonel  Star- 
bottle  made  his  appearance  next  day  upon 
the  streets  with  somewhat  of  his  usual  pom 
posity,  a  little  restrained  by  the  presence 
of  his  nephew,  who  accompanied  him,  and 
who,  as  a  universal  favorite,  also  exercised 
some  restraint  upon  the  curious  and  imper 
tinent.  But  Culpepper's  face  wore  a  look 
of  anxiety  quite  at  variance  with  his  usual 
grave  repose.  "  The  Don  don't  seem  to  take 
the  old  man's  set-back  kindly,"  observed  the 
sympathizing  blacksmith.  "  P'r'aps  he  was 
sweet  on  Dolores  himself,"  suggested  the 
skeptical  expressman. 

It  was  a  bright  morning,  a  week  after  this 
occurrence,  that  Miss  Jo  Folinsbee  stepped 
from  her  garden  into  the  road.  This  time 
the  latch  did  not  click  as  she  cautiously 
closed  the  gate  behind  her.  After  a  mo 
ment's  irresolution,  which  would  have  been 
awkward  but  that  it  was  charmingly  em 
ployed,  after  the  manner  of  her  sex,  in  ad 
justing  a  bow  under  a  dimpled  but  rather 
prominent  chin,  and  in  pulling  down  the 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.      241 

fingers  of  a  neatly  fitting  glove,  she  tripped 
toward  the  settlement.  Small  wonder  that 
a  passing  teamster  drove  his  six  mules  into 
the  wayside  ditch  and  imperilled  his  load,  to 
keep  the  dust  from  her  spotless  garments ; 
small  wonder  that  the  "  Lightning  Express  " 
withheld  its  speed  and  flash  to  let  her  passs 
and  that  the  expressman,  who  had  never 
been  known  to  exchange  more  than  rapid 
monosyllables  with  his  fellow-man,  gazed 
after  her  with  breathless  admiration.  For 
she  was  certainly  attractive.  In  a  country 
where  the  ornamental  sex  followed  the  exam 
ple  of  youthful  Nature,  and  were  prone  to 
overdress  and  glaring  efflorescence,  Miss  Jo's 
simple  and  tasteful  raiment  added  much  to 
the  physical  charm  of,  if  it  did  not  actually 
suggest  a  sentiment  to,  her  presence.  It  is 
said  that  Euchre-deck  Billy,  working  in  the 
gulch  at  the  crossing,  never  saw  Miss  Folins- 
bee  pass  but  that  he  always  remarked  apolo 
getically  to  his  partner,  that  "he  believed 
he  must  write  a  letter  home."  Even  Bill 
Masters,  who  saw  her  in  Paris  presented  to 
the  favorable  criticism  of  that  most  fastid 
ious  man,  the  late  Emperor,  said  that  she 
was  stunning,  but  a  big  discount  on  what 
she  was  at  Madrono  Hollow. 


242      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

It  was  still  early  morning,  but  the  sun, 
with  California  extravagance,  had  already 
begun  to  beat  hotly  on  the  little  chip  hat 
and  blue  ribbons,  and  Miss  Jo  was  obliged 
to  seek  the  shade  of  a  by-path.  Here  she  re 
ceived  the  timid  advances  of  a  vagabond  yel 
low  dog  graciously,  until,  emboldened  by  his 
success,  he  insisted  upon  accompanying  her, 
and,  becoming  slobberingly  demonstrative, 
threatened  her  spotless  skirt  with  his  dusty 
paws,  when  she  drove  him  from  her  with 
some  slight  acerbity,  and  a  stone  which 
haply  fell  within  fifty  feet  of  its  destined 
mark.  Having  thus  proved  her  ability  to 
defend  herself,  with  characteristic  inconsist 
ency  she  took  a  small  panic,  and,  gathering 
her  white  skirts  in  one  hand,  and  holding 
the  brim  of  her  hat  over  her  eyes  with  the 
other,  she  ran  swiftly  at  least  a  hundred 
yards  before  she  stopped.  Then  she  began 
picking  some  ferns  and  a  few  wild-flowers 
still  spared  to  the  withered  fields,  and  then 
a  sudden  distrust  of  her  small  ankles  seized 
her,  and  she  inspected  them  narrowly  for 
those  burrs  and  bugs  and  snakes  which  are 
supposed  to  lie  in  wait  for  helpless  woman 
hood.  Then  she  plucked  some  golden  heads 
of  wild  oats,  and  with  a  sudden  inspiration 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.      243 

placed  them  in  her  black  hair,  and  then 
came  quite  unconsciously  upon  the  trail  lead 
ing  to  Madrono  Hollow. 

Here  she  hesitated.  Before  her  ran  the 
little  trail,  vanishing  at  last  into  the  bosky 
depths  below.  The  sun  was  very  hot.  She 
must  be  very  far  from  home.  Why  should 
she  not  rest  awhile  under  the  shade  of  a  ma 
drono  ? 

She  answered  these  questions  by  going 
there  at  once.  After  thoroughly  exploring 
the  grove,  and  satisfying  herself  that  it  con 
tained  no  other  living  human  creature,  she  sat 
down  under  one  of  the  largest  trees,  with  a 
satisfactory  little  sigh.  Miss  Jo  loved  the 
madrono.  It  was  a  cleanly  tree  ;  no  dust 
ever  lay  upon  its  varnished  leaves ;  its  im 
maculate  shade  never  was  known  to  harbor 
grub  or  insect. 

She  looked  up  at  the  rosy  arms  inter 
locked  and  arched  above  her  head.  She 
looked  down  at  the  delicate  ferns  and  cryp 
togams  at  her  feet.  Something  glittered  at 
the  root  of  the  tree.  She  picked  it  up ;  it 
was  a  bracelet.  She  examined  it  carefully 
for  cipher  or  inscription  ;  there  was  none. 
She  could  not  resist  a  natural  desire  to  clasp 
it  on  her  arm,  and  to  survey  it  from  that 


244      ROMANCE  "F  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

advantageous  view -point.  This  absorbed 
her  attention  for  some  moments  ;  and  when 
she  looked  iip  again  she  beheld  at  a  little 
distance  Culpepper  Starbottle. 

He  was  standing  where  he  had  halted, 
with  instinctive  delicacy,  on  first  discover 
ing  he£.  Indeed,  he  had  even  deliberated 
whether  he  ought  not  to  go  away  without 
disturbing  her.  But  some  fascination  held 
him  to  the  spot.  Wonderful  power  of  hu 
manity  !  Far  beyond  jutted  an  outlying 
spur  of  the  Sierra,  vast,  compact,  and  silent. 
Scarcely  a  hundred  yards  away,  a  league- 
long  chasm  dropped  its  sheer  walls  of  granite 
a  thousand  feet.  On  every  side  rose  up  the 
serried  ranks  of  pine-trees,  in  whose  close- 
set  files  centuries  of  storm  and  change  had 
wrought  no  breach.  Yet  all  this  seemed  to 
Culpepper  to  have  been  planned  by  an  all- 
wise  Providence  as  the  natural  background 
to  the  figure  of  a  pretty  girl  in  a  yellow 
dress. 

Although  Miss  Jo  had  confidently  ex 
pected  to  meet  Culpepper  somewhere  in 
her  ramble,  now  that  he  came  upon  her 
suddenly,  she  felt  disappointed  and  embar 
rassed.  His  manner,  too,  was  more  than 
grave  and  serious,  and  more  than 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.   245 

ever  seemed  to  jar  upon  that  audacious  levity 
which  was  this  giddy  girl's  power  and  secu 
rity  in  a  society  where  all  feeling  was  dan 
gerous.  As  he  approached  her  she  rose  to 
her  feet,  but  almost  before  she  knew  it  he 
had  taken  her  hand  and  drawn  her  to  a  seat 
beside  him.  This  was  not  what  Miss  Jo 
had  expected,  but  nothing  is  so  difficult  to 
predicate  as  the  exact  preliminaries  of  a  dec 
laration  of  love. 

What  did  Culpepper  say?  Nothing,  I 
fear,  that  will  add  anything  to  the  wisdom 
of  the  reader ;  nothing,  I  fear,  that  Miss  Jo 
had  not  heard  substantially  from  other  lips 
before.  But  there  was  a  certain  conviction, 
fire-speed,  and  fury  in  the  manner  that  was 
deliciously  novel  to  the  young  lady.  It  was 
certainly  something  to  be  courted  in  the 
nineteenth  century  with  all  the  passion  and 
extravagance  of  the  sixteenth ;  it  was  some 
thing  to  hear,  amid  the  slang  of  a  frontier 
society,  the  language  of  knight-errantry 
poured  into  her  ear  by  this  lantern-jawed, 
dark-browed  descendant  of  the  Cavaliers. 

I  do  not  know  that  there  was  anything 
more  in  it.  The  facts,  however,  go  to  show 
that  at  a  certain  point  Miss  Jo  dropped  her 
glove,  and  that  in  recovering  it  Culpepper 


246      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

possessed  himself  first  of  her  hand  and  then 
her  lips.  When  they  stood  up  to  go,  Cul- 
pepper  had  his  arm  around  her  waist,  and 
her  black  hair,  with  its  sheaf  of  golden  oats, 
rested  against  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat. 
But  even  then  I  do  not  think  her  fancy  was 
entirely  captive.  She  took  a  certain  satis 
faction  in  this  demonstration  of  Culpepper's 
splendid  height,  and  mentally  compared  it 
with  a  former  flame,  one  Lieutenant  Mc- 
Mirk,  an  active,  but  under-sized  Hector, 
who  subsequently  fell  a  victim  to  the  in 
cautiously  composed  and  monotonous  bever 
ages  of  a  frontier  garrison.  Nor  was  she  so 
much  preoccupied  but  that  her  quick  eyes, 
even  while  absorbing  Culpepper's  glances^ 
were  yet  able  to  detect,  at  a  distance,  the 
figure  of  a  man  approaching.  In  an  in 
stant  she  slipped  out  of  Culpepper's  arm, 
and,  whipping  her  hands  behind  her,  said, 
"  There  's  that  horrid  man  !  " 

Culpepper  looked  up  and  beheld  his  re 
spected  uncle  panting  and  blowing  over  the 
hill.  His  brow  contracted  as  he  turned  to 
Miss  Jo :  "  You  don't  like  my  uncle !  " 

"  I  hate  him  !  "  Miss  Jo  was  recovering 
her  ready  tongue. 

Culpepper  blushed.    He  would  have  liked 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.      247 

to  enter  upon  some  details  of  the  Colonel's 
pedigree  and  exploits,  but  there  was  not 
time.  He  only  smiled  sadly.  The  smile 
melted  Miss  Jo.  She  held  out  her  hand 
quickly,  and  said,  with  even  more  than  her 
usual  effrontery,  "  Don't  let  that  man  get 
you  into  any  trouble.  Take  care  of  your 
self,  dear,  and  don't  let  anything  happen  to 
you." 

Miss  Jo  intended  this  speech  to  be  pa* 
thetic ;  the  tenure  of  life  among  her  lovers 
had  hitherto  been  very  uncertain.  Cul- 
pepper  turned  toward  her,  but  she  had  al» 
ready  vanished  in  the  thicket. 

The  Colonel  came  up,  panting.  "  I  've 
looked  all  over  town  for  you,  and  be  dashed 
to  you,  sir.  Who  was  that  with  you  ?  " 

"A  lady."  (Culpepper  never  lied,  but 
he  was  discreet.) 

"  D — n  'em  all !  Look  yar,  Culp,  I  've 
spotted  the  man  who  gave  the  order  to  put 
me  off  the  floor "  ("  flo "  was  what  the 
Colonel  said)  "  the  other  night  1  " 

"Who  was  it?"  asked  Culpepper,  list 
lessly. 

"  Jack  Folinsbee." 

"Who?" 

"  Why,  the  son  of   that  dashed  nigger 


248      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

worshipping,  psalm-singing  Puritan  Yankee. 
What 's  the  matter,  now  ?  Look  yar,  Gulp, 
you  ain't  goin'  back  on  your  blood,  ar'  ye  ? 
You  ain't  goin'  back  on  your  word?  Ye 
ain't  going  down  at  the  feet  of  this  trash, 
like  a  whipped  hound  ?  " 

Culpepper  was  silent.  He  was  very  white. 
Presently  he  looked  up,  and  said  quietly, 
"No." 

Culpepper  Starbottle  had  challenged  Jack 
Folinsbee,  and  the  challenge  was  accepted. 
The  cause  alleged  was  the  expelling  of  Cul- 
pepper's  uncle  from  the  floor  of  the  As 
sembly  Ball  by  the  order  of  Folinsbee. 
This  much  Madrono  Hollow  knew,  and  could 
swear  to ;  but  there  were  other  strange  ru 
mors  afloat,  of  which  the  blacksmith  was  an 
able  expounder.  "  You  see,  gentlemen,"  he 
said  to  the  crowd  gathered  around  his  anvil, 
"  I  ain't  got  no  theory  of  this  affair,  I  only 
give  a  few  facts  as  have  come  to  my  knowl 
edge.  Culpepper  and  Jack  meets  quite  ac 
cidental  like  in  Bob's  saloon.  Jack  goes  up 
to  Culpepper  and  says,  '  A  word  with  you/ 
Culpepper  bows  and  steps  aside  in  this  way, 
Jack  standing  about  here."  (The  black 
smith  demonstrates  the  position  of  the  par- 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.      249 

ties  with  two  old  horseshoes  on  the  anvil.) 
"  Jack  pulls  a  bracelet  from  his  pocket  and 
says,  '  Do  you  know  that  bracelet  ? '  Cul- 
pepper  says,  '  I  do  not,'  quite  cool-like  and 
easy.  Jack  says,  '  You  gave  it  to  my  sister.' 
Culpepper  says,  still  cool  as  you  please,  '  I 
did  not.'  Jack  says,  'You  lie,  Gr — d  d — n 
you,'  and  draws  his  derringer.  Culpepper 
jumps  forward  about  here "  (reference  is 
made  to  the  diagram)  "  and  Jack  fires. 
Nobody  hit.  It's  a  mighty  cur'o's  thing, 
gentlemen,"  continued  the  blacksmith,  drop 
ping  suddenly  into  the  abstract,  and  leaning 
meditatively  on  his  anvil, —  "  it 's  a  mighty 
cur'o's  thing  that  nobody  gets  hit  so  often. 
You  and  me  empties  our  revolvers  sociably 
at  each  other  over  a  little  game,  and  the 
room  full,  and  nobody  gets  hit !  That 's 
what  gets  me." 

"  Never  mind,  Thompson,"  chimed  in  Bill 
Masters,  "  there  's  another  and  a  better  world 
where  we  shall  know  all  that,  and  —  become 
better  shots.  Go  on  with  your  story." 

"  Well,  some  grabs  Culpepper  and  some 
grabs  Jack,  and  so  separates  them.  Then 
Jack  tells  'em  as  how  he  had  seen  his  sister 
wear  a  bracelet  which  he  knew  was  one  that 
had  been  given  to  Dolores  by  Colonel  Star- 


250      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

bottle.  That  Miss  Jo  would  n't  say  where 
she  got  it,  but  owned  up  to  having  seen  Cul- 
pepper  that  day.  Then  the  most  curVs 
thing  of  it  yet,  what  does  Culpepper  do  but 
rise  up  and  takes  all  back  that  he  said,  and 
allows  that  he  did  give  her  the  bracelet. 
Now  my  opinion,  gentlemen,  is  that  he  lied ; 
it  ain't  like  that  man  to  give  a  gal  that  he 
respects  anything  off  that  piece,  Dolores. 
But  it 's  all  the  same  now,  and  there  's  but 
one  thing  to  be  done." 

The  way  this  one  thing  was  done  belongs 
to  the  record  of  Madrono  Hollow.  The 
morning  was  bright  and  clear  ;  the  air  was 
slightly  chill,  but  that  was  from  the  mist 
which  arose  along  the  banks  of  the  river. 
As  early  as  six  o'clock  the  designated 
ground  —  a  little  opening  in  the  madrono 
grove  —  was  occupied  by  Culpepper  Star- 
bottle,  Colonel  Starbottle,  his  second,  and 
the  surgeon.  The  Colonel  was  exalted  and 
excited,  albeit  in  a  rather  imposing,  dig 
nified  way,  and  pointed  out  to  the  surgeon 
the  excellence  of  the  ground,  which  at  that 
hour  was  wholly  shaded  from  the  sun,  whose 
steady  stare  is  more  or  less  discomposing  to 
your  duellist.  The  surgeon  threw  himself 
on  the  grass  and  smoked  his  cigar.  Culpep- 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.       251 

per,  quiet  and  thoughtful,  leaned  against  a 
tree  and  gazed  up  the  river.  There  was  a 
strange  suggestion  of  a  picnic  about  the 
group,  which  was  heightened  when  the  Colo 
nel  drew  a  bottle  from  his  coat-tails,  and, 
taking  a  preliminary  draught,  offered  it  to 
the  others.  "Cocktails,  sir,"  he  explained 
with  dignified  precision.  "A  gentleman, 
sir,  should  never  go  out  without  'em.  Keeps 
off  the  morning  chill.  I  remember  going 
out  in  '53  with  Hank  Boompointer.  Good 
ged,  sir,  the  man  had  to  put  on  his  overcoat, 
and  was  shot  in  it.  Fact !  " 

But  the  noise  of  wheels  drowned  the 
Colonel's  reminiscences,  and  a  rapidly  driven 
buggy »  containing  Jack  Folinsbee,  Calhoun 
Bungstarter,  his  second,  and  Bill  Masters, 
drew  up  on  the  ground.  Jack  Folinsbee 
leaped  out  gayly.  "  I  had  the  jolliest  work 
to  get  away  without  the  governor's  hearing," 
he  began,  addressing  the  group  before  him 
with  the  greatest  volubility.  Calhoun  Bung- 
starter  touched  his  arm,  and  the  young  man 
blushed.  It  was  his  first  duel. 

"  If  you  are  ready,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr. 
Bungstarter,  "  we  had  better  proceed  to 
business.  I  believe  it  is  understood  that  no 
apology  will  be  offered  or  accepted.  We 


252      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

may  as  well  settle  preliminaries  at  once,  or 
I  fear  we  shall  be  interrupted.  There  is  a 
rumor  in  town  that  the  Vigilance  Committee 
are  seeking  our  friends  the  Starbottles,  and 
I  believe,  as  their  fellow-countryman,  I  have 
the  honor  to  be  included  in  their  warrant." 

At  this  probability  of  interruption,  that 
gravity  which  had  hitherto  been  wanting 
fell  upon  the  group.  The  preliminaries 
were  soon  arranged  and  the  principals  placed 
in  position.  Then  there  was  a  silence. 

To  a  spectator  from  the  hill,  impressed 
with  the  picnic  suggestion,  what  might  have 
been  the  popping  of  two  champagne  corks 
broke  the  stillness. 

Culpepper  had  fired  in  the  air.  Colo 
nel  Starbottle  uttered  a  low  curse.  John 
Folinsbee  sulkily  demanded  another  shot. 

Again  the  parties  stood  opposed  to  each 
other.  Again  the  word  was  given,  and  what 
seemed  to  be  the  simultaneous  report  of  both 
pistols  rose  upon  the  air.  But  after  an  in 
terval  of  a  few  seconds  all  were  surprised  to 
see  Culpepper  slowly  raise  his  unexploded 
weapon  and  fire  it  harmlessly  above  his 
head.  Then,  throwing  the  pistol  upon  the 
ground,  he  walked  to  a  tree  and  leaned 
silently  against  it. 


ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW.      253 

Jack  Folinsbee  flew  into  a  paroxysm  of 
fury.  Colonel  Starbottle  raved  and  swore. 
Mr.  Bungstarter  was  properly  shocked  at 
their  conduct.  "  Really,  gentlemen,  if  Mr. 
Culpepper  Starbottle  declines  another  shot, 
I  do  not  see  how  we  can  proceed." 

But  the  Colonel's  blood  was  up,  and  Jack 
Folinsbee  was  equally  implacable.  A  hur 
ried  consultation  ensued,  which  ended  by 
Colonel  Starbottle  taking  his  nephew's  place 
as  principal,  Bill  Masters  acting  as  second, 
vice  Mr.  Bungstarter,  who  declined  all  fur 
ther  connection  with  the  affair. 

Two  distinct  reports  rang  through  the 
Hollow.  Jack  Folinsbee  dropped  his  smok 
ing  pistol,  took  a  step  forward,  and  then 
dropped  heavily  upon  his  face. 

In  a  moment  the  surgeon  was  at  his  side. 
The  confusion  was  heightened  by  the  tramp 
ling  of  hoofs,  and  the  voice  of  the  black 
smith  bidding  them  flee  for  their  lives  be 
fore  the  coming  storm.  A  moment  more 
and  the  ground  was  cleared,  and  the  surgeon, 
looking  up,  beheld  only  the  white  face  of 
Culpepper  bending  over  him. 

"  Can  you  save  him  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say.  Hold  up  his  head  a  mo 
ment,  while  I  run  to  the  buggy." 


254      ROMANCE  OF  MADRONO  HOLLOW. 

Culpepper  passed  his  arm  tenderly  around 
the  neck  of  the  insensible  man.  Presently 
the  surgeon  returned  with  some  stimulants. 

"There,  that  will  do,  Mr.  Starbottle, 
thank  you.  Now  my  advice  is  to  get  away 
from  here  while  you  can.  I  '11  look  after 
Folinsbee.  Do  you  hear  ?  " 

Culpepper 's  arm  was  still  round  the  neck 
of  his  late  foe,  but  his  head  had  dropped 
and  fallen  on  the  wounded  man's  shoulder. 
The  surgeon  looked  down,  and,  catching 
sight  of  his  face,  stooped  and  lifted  him 
gently  in  his  arms.  He  opened  his  coat  and 
waistcoat.  There  was  blood  upon  his  shirt, 
and  a  bullet-hole  in  his  breast.  He  had  been 
shot  unto  death  at  the  first  fire. 


THE  PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER 
FRIENDS. 


SHE  was  a  Klamath  Indian.  Her  title 
was,  I  think,  a  compromise  between  her 
claim  as  daughter  of  a  chief  and  gratitude 
to  her  earliest  white  protector,  whose  name, 
after  the  Indian  fashion,  she  had  adopted. 
"  Bob "  Walker  had  taken  her  from  the 
breast  of  her  dead  mother  at  a  time  when 
the  sincere  volunteer  soldiery  of  the  Califor 
nia  frontier  were  impressed  with  the  belief 
that  extermination  was  the  manifest  destiny 
of  the  Indian  race.  He  had  with  difficulty 
restrained  the  noble  zeal  of  his  compatriots 
long  enough  to  convince  them  that  the  ex 
emption  of  one  Indian  baby  would  not  in 
validate  this  theory.  And  he  took  her  to 
his  home,  —  a  pastoral  clearing  on  the  banks 
of  the  Salmon  River,  —  where  she  was  cared 
for  after  a  frontier  fashion. 

Before  she  was  nine  years  old,  she  had 
exhausted  the  scant  kindliness  of  the  thin, 


256      PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

overworked  Mrs.  Walker,  As  a  playfellow 
of  the  young  Walkers  she  was  unreliable ; 
as  a  nurse  for  the  baby  she  was  inefficient. 
She  lost  the  former  in  the  trackless  depths 
of  a  redwood  forest ;  she  basely  abandoned 
the  latter  in  an  extemporized  cradle,  hanging 
like  a  chrysalis  to  a  convenient  bough.  She 
lied  and  she  stole,  —  two  unpardonable  sins 
in  a  frontier  community,  where  truth  was  a 
necessity  and  provisions  were  the  only  prop 
erty.  Worse  than  this,  the  outskirts  of  the 
clearing  were  sometimes  haunted  by  blan 
keted  tatterdemalions  with  whom  she  had 
mysterious  confidences.  Mr.  Walker  more 
than  once  regretted  his  indiscreet  humanity ; 
but  she  presently  relieved  him  of  respon 
sibility,  and  possibly  of  bloodguiltiness,  by 
disappearing  entirely. 

When  she  reappeared,  it  was  at  the  ad 
jacent  village  of  Logport,  in  the  capacity  of 
housemaid  to  a  trader's  wife,  who,  joining 
some  little  culture  to  considerable  conscien 
tiousness,  attempted  to  instruct  her  charge. 
But  the  Princess  proved  an  unsatisfactory 
pupil  to  even  so  liberal  a  teacher.  She  accept 
ed  the  alphabet  with  great  good-humor,  but 
always  as  a  pleasing  and  recurring  novelty, 
in  which  all  interest  expired  at  the  comple* 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      257 

tion  of  each  lesson.  She  found  a  thousand 
uses  for  her  books  and  writing  materials 
other  than  those  known  to  civilized  children. 
She  made  a  curious  necklace  of  bits  of  slate- 
pencil,  she  constructed  a  miniature  canoe 
from  the  pasteboard  covers  of  her  primer, 
she  bent  her  pens  into  fish-hooks,  and  tat 
tooed  the  faces  of  her  younger  companions 
with  blue  ink.  Religious  instruction  she  re 
ceived  as  good-humoredly,  and  learned  to 
pronounce  the  name  of  the  Deity  with  a 
cheerful  familiarity  that  shocked  her  precep 
tress.  Nor  could  her  reverence  be  reached 
through  analogy  ;  she  knew  nothing  of  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  professed  entire  ignorance 
of  the  Happy  Hunting-Grounds.  Yet  she 
attended  divine  service  regularly,  and  as 
regularly  asked  for  a  hymn-book  ;  and  it 
was  only  through  the  discovery  that  she  had 
collected  twenty-five  of  these  volumes,  and 
had  hidden  them  behind  the  woodpile,  that 
her  connection  with  the  First  Baptist  Church 
of  Logport  ceased.  She  would  occasionally 
abandon  these  civilized  and  Christian  privi 
leges,  and  disappear  from  her  home,  return 
ing  after  several  days  of  absence  with  an 
odor  of  bark  and  fish,  and  a  peace-offering 
to  her  mistress  in  the  shape  of  venison  or 
game. 


258      PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS, 

To  add  to  her  troubles,  she  was  now  four 
teen,  and,  according  to  the  laws  of  her  race, 
a  woman.  I  do  not  think  the  most  romantic 
fancy  would  have  called  her  pretty.  Her 
complexion  defiod  most  of  those  ambiguous 
similes  through  which  poets  unconsciously 
apologize  for  a,.y  deviation  from  the  Cau 
casian  standard.  It  was  not  wine  nor  amber 
colored ;  if  am  hing,  it  was  smoky.  Her 
face  was  tattooed  with  red  and  white  lines  on 
one  cheek,  as  if  a  fine-toothed  comb  had  been 
drawn  from  cheek-bone  to  jaw,  and,  but  for 
the  good-humor  that  beamed  from  her  small 
berry-like  eyes  and  shone  in  her  white  teeth, 
would  have  been  repulsive.  She  was  short 
and  stout.  In  her  scant  drapery  and  un 
restrained  freedom  she  was  hardly  statu 
esque,  and  her  more  unstudied  attitudes  were 
marred  by  a  simian  habit  of  softly  scratching 
her  left  ankle  with  the  toes  of  her  right  foot, 
in  moments  of  contemplation. 

I  think  I  have  already  shown  enough  to 
indicate  the  incongruity  of  her  existence 
with  even  the  low  standard  of  civilization 
that  obtained  at  Logport  in  the  year  1860. 
It  needed  but  one  more  fact  to  prove  the 
far-sighted  political  sagacity  and  prophetic 
ethics  of  those  sincere  advocates  of  extermi- 


PHINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      259 

nation,  to  whose  virtues  I  have  done  but 
scant  justice  in  the  beginning  of  this  article. 
This  fact  was  presently  furnished  by  the 
Princess.  After  one  of  her  periodical  disap 
pearances,  —  this  time  unusually  prolonged, 
—  she  astonished  Logport  b  *  returning  with 
a  half-breed  baby  of  a  week  ttld  in  her  arms. 
That  night  a  meeting  of  the  hard-featured 
serious  matrons  of  Logport  jfes  held  at  Mrs. 
Brown's.  The  immediate  banishment  of  the 
Princess  was  demanded.  Soft-hearted  Mrs. 
Brown  endeavored  vainly  to  get  a  mitigation 
or  suspension  of  the  sentence.  But,  as  on  a 
former  occasion,  the  Princess  took  matters 
into  her  own  hands.  A  few  mornings  after 
wards,  a  wicker  cradle  containing  an  Indian 
baby  was  found  hanging  on  the  handle  of 
the  door  of  the  First  Baptist  Church.  It 
was  the  Parthian  arrow  of  the  flying  Prin 
cess.  From  that  day  Logport  knew  her  no 
more. 

It  had  been  a  bright,  clear  day  on  the  up 
land, —  so  clear  that  the  ramparts  of  Fort 
Jackson  and  the  flagstaff  were  plainly  visible 
twelve  miles  away  from  the  long,  curving 
peninsula  that  stretched  a  bared  white  arm 
around  the  peaceful  waters  of  Logport  Bay. 


260      PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

It  had  been  a  clear  day  upon  the  sea-shore, 
albeit  the  air  was  filled  with  the  flying 
spume  and  shifting  sand  of  a  straggling 
beach,  whose  low  dunes  were  dragged  down 
by  the  long  surges  of  the  Pacific  and  thrown 
up  again  by  the  tumultuous  trade-winds. 
But  the  sun  had  gone  down  in  a  bank  of 
fleecy  fog  that  was  beginning  to  roll  in  upon 
the  beach.  Gradually  the  headland  at  the 
entrance  of  the  harbor  and  the  lighthouse 
disappeared,  then  the  willow  fringe  that 
marked  the  line  of  Salmon  River  vanished, 
and  the  ocean  was  gone.  A  few  sails  still 
gleamed  on  the  waters  of  the  bay ;  but  the 
advancing  fog  wiped  them  out  one  by  oney 
crept  across  the  steel-blue  expanse,  swal 
lowed  up  the  white  mills  and  single  spire  of 
Logport,  and,  joining  with  reinforcements 
from  the  marshes,  moved  solemnly  upon  the 
hills.  Ten  minutes  more  and  the  landscape 
was  utterly  blotted  out ;  simultaneously  the 
wind  died  away,  and  a  death-like  silence 
stole  over  sea  and  shore.  The  faint  clang, 
high  overhead,  of  unseen  brent,  the  nearer 
call  of  invisible  plover,  the  lap  and  wash  of 
undistinguishable  waters,  and  the  monoto 
nous  roll  of  the  vanished  ocean  were  the  only 
sounds.  As  night  deepened,  the  far-off  boom- 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      261 

ing  of  the  fog-bell  on  the  headland  at  inter 
vals  stirred  the  thick  air. 

Hard  by  the  shore  of  the  bay,  and  half 
hidden  by  a  drifting  sand-hill,  stood  a  low 
nondescript  structure,  to  whose  composition 
sea  and  shore  had  equally  contributed.  It 
was  built  partly  of  logs  and  partly  of  drift- 
wood  and  tarred  canvas.  Joined  to  one  end 
of  the  main  building  —  the  ordinary  log- 
cabin  of  the  settler  —  was  the  half-round 
pilot-house  of  some  wrecked  steamer,  while 
the  other  gable  terminated  in  half  of  a 
broken  whale-boat.  Nailed  against  the  boat 
were  the  dried  skins  of  wild  animals,  and 
scattered  about  lay  the  flotsam  and  jetsam 
of  many  years'  gathering,  —  bamboo  crates, 
casks,  hatches,  blocks,  oars,  boxes,  part  of  a 
whale's  vertebra,  and  the  blades  of  sword- 
fish.  Drawn  up  on  the  beach  of  a  little  cove 
before  the  house  lay  a  canoe.  As  the  night 
thickened  and  the  fog  grew  more  dense, 
these  details  grew  imperceptible,  and  only 
the  windows  of  the  pilot-house,  lit  up  by  a 
roaring  fire  within  the  hut,  gleamed  redly 
through  the  mist. 

By  this  fire,  beneath  a  ship's  lamp  that 
swung  from  the  roof,  two  figures  were  seated, 
a  man  and  a  woman.  The  man,  broad- 


262      PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

shouldered  and  heavily  bearded,  stretched 
his  listless  powerful  length  beyond  a  broken 
bamboo  chair,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
fire.  The  woman  crouched  cross-legged  upon 
the  broad  earthen  hearth,  with  her  eyes 
bliiikingly  fixed  on  her  companion.  They 
were  small,  black,  round,  berry-like  eyes, 
and  as  the  firelight  shone  upon  her  smoky 
face,  with  its  one  striped  cheek  of  gorgeous 
brilliancy,  it  was  plainly  the  Princess  Bob, 
and  no  other. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken.  They  had  been 
sitting  thus  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  there 
was  about  their  attitude  a  suggestion  that 
silence  was  habitual.  Once  or  twice  the 
man  rose  and  walked  up  and  down  the  nar 
row  room,  or  gazed  absently  from  the  win 
dows  of  the  pilot-house,  but  never  by  look  or 
sign  betrayed  the  slightest  consciousness  of 
his  companion.  At  such  times  the  Princess 
from  her  nest  by  the  fire  followed  him  with 
eyes  of  canine  expectancy  and  wistfulness. 
But  he  would  as  inevitably  return  to  his 
contemplation  of  the  fire,  and  the  Princess 
to  her  blinking  watchfulness  of  his  face. 

They  had  sat  there  silent  and  undisturbed 
for  many  an  evening  in  fair  weather  and 
foul.  They  had  spent  many  a  day  in  sun- 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      263 

shine  and  storm,  gathering  the  unclaimed 
spoil  of  sea  and  shore.  They  had  kept  these 
mute  relations,  varied  only  by  the  incidents 
of  the  hunt  or  meagre  household  duties,  for 
three  years,  ever  since  the  man,  wandering 
moodily  over  the  lonely  sands,  had  fallen 
upon  the  half-starved  woman  lying  in  the 
little  hollow  where  she  had  crawled  to  die. 
It  had  seemed  as  if  they  would  never  be  dis 
turbed,  until  now,  when  the  Princess  started, 
and,  with  the  instinct  of  her  race,  bent  her 
ear  to  the  ground. 

The  wind  had  risen  and  was  rattling  the 
tarred  canvas.  But  in  another  moment 
there  plainly  came  from  without  the  hut  the 
sound  of  voices.  Then  followed  a  rap  at 
the  door ;  then  another  rap  ;  and  then,  be 
fore  they  could  rise  to  their  feet,  the  door 
was  flung  briskly  open. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  a  pleasant  but 
somewhat  decided  contralto  voice,  "  but  I 
don't  think  you  heard  me  knock.  Ah,  I  see 
you  did  not.  May  I  come  in? " 

There  was  no  reply.  Had  the  battered 
figure-head  of  the  Goddess  of  Liberty, 
which  lay  deeply  embedded  in  the  sand 
on  the  beach,  suddenly  appeared  at  the 
door,  demanding  admittance,  the  occupants 


264      PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

of  the  cabin  could  not  have  been  more 
speechlessly  and  hopelessly  astonished  than 
at  the  form  which  stood  in  the  open  door 
way. 

It  was  that  of  a  slim,  shapely,  elegantly 
dressed  young  woman.  A  scarlet-lined  silk 
en  hood  was  half  thrown  back  from  the 
shining  mass  of  the  black  hair  that  covered 
her  small  head ;  from  her  pretty  shoulders 
dropped  a  fur  cloak,  only  restrained  by  a 
cord  and  tassel  in  her  small  gloved  hand. 
Around  her  full  throat  was  a  double  neck 
lace  of  large  white  beads,  that  by  some  cun 
ning  feminine  trick  relieved  with  its  infantile 
suggestion  the  strong  decision  of  her  lower 
face. 

"  Did  you  say  yes  ?  Ah,  thank  you.  We 
may  come  in,  Barker."  (Here  a  shadow  in 
a  blue  army  overcoat  followed  her  into  the 
cabin,  touched  its  cap  respectfully,  and  then 
stood  silent  and  erect  against  the  wall.) 
"  Don't  disturb  yourself  in  the  least,  I  beg. 
What  a  distressingly  unpleasant  night !  Is 
this  your  usual  climate  ?  " 

Half  graciously,  half  absently  overlooking 
the  still  embarrassed  silence  of  the  group, 
she  went  on :  "  We  started  from  the  fort 
over  three  hours  ago,  —  three  hours  ago, 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      265 

was  n't  it,  Barker  ? "  (the  erect  Barker 
touched  his  cap)  —  "  to  go  to  Captain  Etn- 
mons's  quarters  on  Indian  Island,  —  I  think 
you  call  it  Indian  Island,  don't  you?"  (she 
was  appealing  to  the  awe-stricken  Princess) 
— "  and  we  got  into  the  fog  and  lost  our 
way ;  that  is,  Barker  lost  his  way  "  (Barker 
touched  his  cap  deprecatingly),  "  and  good 
ness  knows  where  we  did  n't  wander  to  until 
we  mistook  your  light  for  the  lighthouse, 
and  pulled  up  here.  No,  no  ;  pray  keep 
your  seat,  do  !  Really,  I  must  insist." 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  languid  grace 
of  the  latter  part  of  this  speech,  —  nothing 
except  the  easy  unconsciousness  with  which 
she  glided  by  the  offered  chair  of  her  stam 
mering,  embarrassed  host,  and  stood  beside 
the  open  hearth. 

"Barker  will  tell  you,"  she  continued, 
warming  her  feet  by  the  fire,  "that  I  am 
Miss  Portfire,  daughter  of  Major  Portfire, 
commanding  the  post.  Ah,  excuse  me, 
child ! "  (She  had  accidentally  trodden 
upon  the  bare,  yellow  toes  of  the  Princess.) 
"  Really,  I  did  not  know  you  were  there.  I 
am  very  near-sighted."  (In  confirmation  of 
her  statement,  she  put  to  her  eyes  a  dainty 
double  eyeglass  that  dangled  from  her  neck.) 


266      PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

"  It 's  a  shocking  thing  to  be  near-sighted, 
is  n't  it  ?  " 

If  the  shamefaced,  uneasy  man  to  whom 
this  remark  was  addressed  could  have  found 
words  to  utter  the  thought  that  even  in  his 
confusion  struggled  uppermost  in  his  mind, 
he  would,  looking  at  the  bold,  dark  eyes  that 
questioned  him,  have  denied  the  fact.  But 
he  only  stammered,  "  Yes."  The  next  mo 
ment,  however,  Miss  Portfire  had  apparently 
forgotten  him,  and  was  examining  the  Prin 
cess  through  her  glass. 

"  And  what  is  your  name,  child  ?  " 
The  Princess,  beatified  by  the  eyes  and 
eyeglass,  showed  all  her  white  teeth  at  once, 
and  softly  scratched  her  leg. 
"Bob." 

"  Bob  ?     What  a  singular  name  !  " 
Miss  Portfire's  host  here  hastened  to  ex 
plain  the  origin  of  the  Princess's  title. 
"  Then  you  are  Bob."     (Eyeglass.) 
"  No,  my  name  is  Grey,  —  John   Grey." 
And  he  actually  achieved  a  bow  where  awk 
wardness  was  rather  the  air  of  imperfectly 
recalling  a  forgotten  habit. 

"  Grey  ?  —  ah,  let  me  see.  Yes,  certainly. 
You  are  Mr.  Grey,  the  recluse,  the  hermit, 
the  philosopher,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      267 

Why,  certainly;  Dr.  Jones,  our  surgeon, 
has  told  me  all  about  you.  Dear  me,  how 
interesting  a  rencontre !  Lived  all  alone 
here  for  seven  —  was  it  seven  years  ?  —  yes, 
I  remember  now.  Existed  quite  au  naturel, 
one  might  say.  How  odd!  Not  that  I 
know  anything  about  that  sort  of  thing,  you 
know.  I  've  lived  always  among  people,  and 
am  really  quite  a  stranger,  I  assure  you. 
But  honestly,  Mr.  —  I  beg  your  pardon  — 
Mr.  Grey,  how  do  you  like  it  ?  " 

She  had  quietly  taken  his  chair  and 
thrown  her  cloak  and  hood  over  its  back, 
and  was  now  thoughtfully  removing  her 
gloves.  Whatever  were  the  arguments, — 
and  they  were  doubtless  many  and  profound, 
—  whatever  the  experience,  —  and  it  was 
doubtless  hard  and  satisfying  enough,  —  by 
which  this  unfortunate  man  had  justified  his 
life  for  the  last  seven  years,  somehow  they 
suddenly  became  trivial  and  terribly  ridicu 
lous  before  this  simple  but  practical  question. 

"  Well,  you  shall  tell  me  all  about  it  after 
you  have  given  me  something  to  eat.  We 
will  have  time  enough;  Barker  cannot  find 
his  way  back  in  this  fog  to-night.  Now 
don't  put  yourselves  to  any  trouble  on  my 
account.  Barker  will  assist." 


268     PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

Barker  canie  forward.  Glad  to  escape 
the  scrutiny  of  his  guest,  the  hermit  gave  a 
few  rapid  directions  to  the  Princess  in  her 
native  tongue,  and  disappeared  in  the  shed. 
Left  a  moment  alone,  Miss  Portfire  took  a 
quick,  half-audible,  feminine  inventory  of  the 
cabin.  "  Books,  guns,  skins,  one  chair,  one 
bed,  no  pictures,  and  no  looking-glass ! " 
She  took  a  book  from  the  swinging  shelf 
and  resumed  her  seat  by  the  fire  as  the  Prin 
cess  reentered  with  fresh  fuel.  But  while 
kneeling  on  the  hearth  the  Princess  chanced 
to  look  up  and  met  Miss  Portfire's  dark  eyes 
over  the  edge  of  her  book. 

"  Bob !  " 

The  Princess  showed  her  teeth. 

"Listen.  Would  you  like  to  have  fine 
clothes,  rings,  and  beads  like  these,  to  have 
your  hair  nicely  combed  and  put  up  so? 
Would  you?" 

The  Princess  nodded  violently. 

"  Would  you  like  to  live  with  me  and 
have  them?  Answer  quickly.  Don't  look 
round  for  him.  Speak  for  yourself.  Would 
you  ?  Hush ;  never  mind  now." 

The  hermit  reentered,  and  the  Princess, 
blinking,  retreated  into  the  shadow  of  the 
whale-boat  shed,  from  which  she  did  not 


PEINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      269 

emerge  even  when  the  homely  repast  of  cold 
venison,  ship  biscuit,  and  tea  was  served. 
Miss  Portfire  noticed  her  absence  :  "  You 
really  must  not  let  me  interfere  with  your 
usual  simple  ways.  Do  you  know,  this  is 
exceedingly  interesting  to  me,  so  pastoral 
and  patriarchal,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  I 
must  insist  upon  the  Princess  coming  back ; 
really,  I  must." 

But  the  Princess  was  not  to  be  found  in 
the  shed,  and  Miss  Portfire,  who  the  next 
minute  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  about 
her,  took  her  place  in  the  single  chair  before 
an  extemporized  table.  Barker  stood  be 
hind  her,  and  the  hermit  leaned  against  the 
fireplace.  Miss  Portfire's  appetite  did  not 
come  up  to  her  protestations.  For  the  first 
time  in  seven  years  it  occurred  to  the  hermit 
that  his  ordinary  victual  might  be  improved. 
He  stammered  out  something  to  that  effect. 

"  I  have  eaten  better,  and  worse,"  said 
Miss  Portfire,  quietly. 

"  But  I  thought  you  —  that  is,  you  said  "  — 

"  I  spent  a  year  in  the  hospitals,  when 
father  was  on  the  Potomac,"  returned  Miss 
Portfire,  composedly.  After  a  pause  she  con 
tinued  :  "  You  remember  after  the  second 
Bull  Run  —  But,  dear  me  !  I  beg  your  par- 


270     PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

don ;  of  course,  you  know  nothing  about 
the  war,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  and 
don't  care."  (She  put  up  her  eyeglass,  and 
quietly  surveyed  his  broad,  muscular  figure 
against  the  chimney.)  "  Or,  perhaps,  your 
prejudices  —  But  then,  as  a  hermit  you 
know  you  have  no  politics,  of  course.  Please 
don't  let  me  bore  you." 

To  have  been  strictly  consistent,  the  her 
mit  should  have  exhibited  no  interest  in  this 
topic.  Perhaps  it  was  owing  to  some  qual 
ity  in  the  narrator,  but  he  was  constrained 
to  beg  her  to  continue  in  such  phrases  as  his 
unfamiliar  lips  could  command.  So  that, 
little  by  little,  Miss  Portfire  yielded  up  in 
cident  and  personal  observation  of  the  con 
test  then  raging ;  with  the  same  half -ab 
stracted,  half -unconcerned  air  that  seemed 
habitual  to  her,  she  told  the  stories  of  priva 
tion,  of  suffering,  of  endurance,  and  of  sacri 
fice.  With  the  same  assumption  of  timid 
deference  that  concealed  her  great  self-con 
trol,  she  talked  of  principles  and  rights.  Ap 
parently  without  enthusiasm  and  without 
effort,  of  which  his  morbid  nature  would 
have  been  suspicious,  she  sang  the  great 
American  Iliad  in  a  way  that  stirred  the 
depths  of  her  solitary  auditor  to  its  massive 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.     271 

foundations.  Then  she  stopped,  and  asked 
quietly,  "  Where  is  Bob  ?  " 

The  hermit  started.  He  would  look  for 
her.  But  Bob,  for  some  reason,  was  not 
forthcoming.  Search  was  made  within  and 
without  the  hut,  but  in  vain.  For  the  first 
time  that  evening  Miss  Portfire  showed  some 
anxiety.  "  Go,"  she  said  to  Barker,  "  and 
find  her.  She  must  be  found.  Stay,  give  me 
your  overcoat ;  I  '11  go  myself."  She  threw 
the  overcoat  over  her  shoulders  and  stepped 
out  into  the  night.  In  the  thick  veil  of  fog 
that  seemed  suddenly  to  inwrap  her,  she  stood 
for  a  moment  irresolute,  and  then  walked 
toward  the  beach,  guided  by  the  low  wash 
of  waters  on  the  sand.  She  had  not  taken 
many  steps  before  she  stumbled  over  some 
dark  crouching  object.  Reaching  down  her 
hand,  she  felt  the  coarse,  wiry  mane  of  the 
Princess. 

"Bob!" 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  Bob !  I  've  been  looking  for  you ;  come." 

"  Go  'way." 

"  Nonsense,  Bob.  I  want  you  to  stay  with 
me  to-night ;  come." 

"  Injin  squaw  no  good  for  waugee  woman. 
Go  'way." 


272     PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIEND*. 

"  Listen,  Bob.  You  are  daughter  of  a 
chief  :  so  am  I.  Your  father  had  many  war 
riors  :  so  has  mine.  It  is  good  that  you  stay 
with  me.  Come." 

The  Princess  chuckled,  and  suffered  her 
self  to  be  lifted  up.  A  few  moments  later 
and  they  reentered  the  hut,  hand  in  hand. 

With  the  first  red  streaks  of  dawn  the 
next  day  the  erect  Barker  touched  his  cap 
at  the  door  of  the  hut.  Beside  him  stood 
the  hermit,  also  just  risen  from  his  blanketed 
nest  in  the  sand.  Forth  from  the  hut,  fresh 
as  the  morning  air,  stepped  Miss  Portfire, 
leading  the  Princess  by  the  hand.  Hand  in 
hand  also  they  walked  to  the  shore,  and 
when  the  Princess  had  been  safely  bestowed 
in  the  stern  sheets,  Miss  Portfire  turned  and 
held  out  her  own  to  her  late  host. 

"  I  shall  take  the  best  of  care  of  her,  of 
course.  You  will  come  and  see  her  often. 
I  should  ask  you  to  come  and  see  me,  but 
you  are  a  hermit,  you  know,  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing.  But  if  it  's  the  correct  an 
chorite  thing,  and  can  be  done,  my  father 
will  be  glad  to  requite  you  for  this  night's 
hospitality.  But  don't  do  anything  on  my 
account  that  interferes  with  your  simple 
habits.  Good-by." 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      273 

She  handed  him  a  card,  which  he  took 
mechanically. 

"Good-by." 

The  sail  was  hoisted,  and  the  boat  shoved 
off.  As  the  fresh  morning  breeze  caught 
the  white  canvas  it  seemed  to  bow  a  part 
ing  salutation.  There  was  a  rosy  flush  of 
promise  on  the  water,  and  as  the  light  craft 
darted  forward  toward  the  ascending  sun  it 
seemed  for  a  moment  uplifted  in  its  glory. 

Miss  Portfire  kept  her  word.  If  thought 
ful  care  and  intelligent  kindness  could  re 
generate  the  Princess,  her  future  was  secure. 
And  it  really  seemed  as  if  she  were  for  the 
first  time  inclined  to  heed  the  lessons  of 
civilization  and  profit  by  her  new  condition. 
An  agreeable  change  was  first  noticed  in 
her  appearance.  Her  lawless  hair  was  caught 
in  a  net,  and  no  longer  strayed  over  her  low 
forehead.  Her  unstable  bust  was  stayed  and 
upheld  by  French  corsets;  her  plantigrade 
shuffle  was  limited  by  heeled  boots.  Her 
dresses  were  neat  and  clean,  and  she  wore 
a  double  necklace  of  glass  beads.  With 
this  physical  improvement  there  also  seemed 
some  moral  awakening.  She  no  longer  stole 
nor  lied.  With  the  possession  of  personal 


274     PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

property  came  a  respect  for  that  of  others. 
With  increased  dependence  on  the  word  of 
those  about  her  came  a  thoughtful  consid 
eration  of  her  own.  Intellectually  she  was 
still  feeble,  although  she  grappled  sturdily 
with  the  simple  lessons  which  Miss  Portfire 
set  before  her.  But  her  zeal  and  simple 
Vanity  outran  her  discretion,  and  she  would 
t>ften  sit  for  hours  with  an  open  book  before 
her,  which  she  could  not  read.  She  was  a 
favorite  with  the  officers  at  the  fort,  from 
the  Major,  who  shared  his  daughter's  preju 
dices  and  often  yielded  to  her  powerful  self- 
will,  to  the  subalterns,  who  liked  her  none 
the  less  that  their  natural  enemies,  the  fron 
tier  volunteers,  had  declared  war  against 
her  helpless  sisterhood.  The  only  restraint 
put  upon  her  was  the  limitation  of  her  lib 
erty  to  the  enclosure  of  the  fort  and  parade ; 
and  only  once  did  she  break  this  parole,  and 
was  stopped  by  the  sentry  as  she  stepped 
into  a  boat  at  the  landing. 

The  recluse  did  not  avail  himself  of  Miss 
Portfire's  invitation.  But  after  the  depar 
ture  of  the  Princess  he  spent  less  of  his  time 
in  the  hut,  and  was  more  frequently  seen  in 
the  distant  marshes  of  Eel  Eiver  and  on  the 
upland  hills.  A  feverish  restlessness,  quite 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.     275 

opposed  to  his  usual  phlegm,  led  him  into 
singular  freaks  strangely  inconsistent  with 
his  usual  habits  and  reputation.  The  purser 
of  the  occasional  steamer  which  stopped  at 
Logport  with  the  mails  reported  to  have 
been  boarded,  just  inside  the  bar,  by  a 
strange  bearded  man,  who  asked  for  a  news 
paper  containing  the  last  war  telegrams.  He 
tore  his  red  shirt  into  narrow  strips,  and 
spent  two  days  with  his  needle  over  the 
pieces  and  the  tattered  remnant  of  his  only 
white  garment;  and  a  few  days  afterward 
the  fishermen  on  the  bay  were  surprised  to 
see  what,  on  nearer  approach,  proved  to  be  a 
rude  imitation  of  the  national  flag  floating 
from  a  spar  above  the  hut. 

One  evening,  as  the  fog  began  to  drift 
over  the  sand-hills,  the  recluse  sat  alone  in 
his  hut.  The  fire  was  dying  unheeded  on 
the  hearth,  for  he  had  been  sitting  there 
for  a  long  time,  completely  absorbed  in  the 
blurred  pages  of  an  old  newspaper.  Pres 
ently  he  arose,  and,  refolding  it,  —  an  opera 
tion  of  great  care  and  delicacy  in  its  tattered 
condition,  —  placed  it  under  the  blankets  of 
his  bed.  He  resumed  his  seat  by  the  fire, 
but  soon  began  drumming  with  his  fingers 
on  the  arm  of  his  chair.  Eventually  this 


276     PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

assumed  the  time  and  accent  of  some  air 
Then  he  began  to  whistle  softly  and  hesitat 
ingly,  as  if  trying  to  recall  a  forgotten  tune. 
Finally  this  took  shape  in  a  rude  resem 
blance,  not  unlike  that  which  his  flag  bore  to 
the  national  standard,  to  Yankee  Doodle. 
Suddenly  he  stopped. 

There  was  an  unmistakable  rapping  at 
the  door.  The  blood  which  had  at  first 
rushed  to  his  face  now  forsook  it,  and  set 
tled  slowly  around  his  heart.  He  tried  to 
rise,  but  could  not.  Then  the  door  was 
flung  open,  and  a  figure  with  a  scarlet-lined 
hood  and  fur  mantle  stood  on  the  threshold. 
With  a  mighty  effort  he  took  one  stride  to 
the  door.  The  next  moment  he  saw  the 
wide  mouth  and  white  teeth  of  the  Princess, 
and  was  greeted  by  a  kiss  that  felt  like  a 
baptism. 

To  tear  the  hood  and  mantle  from  her 
figure  in  the  sudden  fury  that  seized  him, 
and  to  fiercely  demand  the  reason  of  this 
masquerade,  was  his  only  return  to  her 
greeting.  "  Why  are  you  here  ?  Did  you 
steal  these  garments  ?  "  he  again  demanded 
in  her  guttural  language,  as  he  shook  her 
roughly  by  the  arm.  The  Princess  hung 
her  head.  "  Did  you  ?  "  he  screamed,  as  he 
reached  wildly  for  his  rifle. 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.     277 

"I  did." 

His  hold  relaxed,  and  he  staggered  back 
against  the  wall.  The  Princess  began  to 
whimper.  Between  her  sobs,  she  was  trying 
to  explain  that  the  Major  and  his  daughter 
were  going  away,  and  that  they  wanted  to 
send  her  to  the  Reservation ;  but  he  cut  her 
short.  "Take  off  those  things!"  The 
Princess  tremblingly  obeyed.  He  rolled 
them  up,  placed  them  in  the  canoe  she  had 
just  left,  and  then  leaped  into  the  frail  craft. 
She  would  have  followed,  but  with  a  great 
oath  he  threw  her  from  him,  and  with  one 
stroke  of  his  paddle  swept  out  into  the  fog, 
and  was  gone. 

"Jessamy,"  said  the  Major,  a  few  days 
after,  as  he  sat  at  dinner  with  his  daughter, 
"  I  think  I  can  tell  you  something  to  match 
the  mysterious  disappearance  and  return  of 
your  wardrobe.  Your  crazy  friend,  the  re 
cluse,  has  enlisted  this  morning  in  the  Fourth 
Artillery.  He  's  a  splendid-looking  animal, 
and  there  's  the  right  stuff  for  a  soldier  in 
him,  if  I  'm  not  mistaken.  He  's  in  earnest, 
too,  for  he  enlists  in  the  regiment  ordered 
back  to  Washington.  Bless  me,  child,  an 
other  goblet  broken !  You  '11  ruin  the  mess 
in  glassware,  at  this  rate !  " 


278     PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS. 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  more  of  the 
Princess,  papa  ?  " 

"  Nothing ;  but  perhaps  it 's  as  well  that 
she  has  gone.  These  cursed  settlers  are  at 
their  old  complaints  again  about  what  they 
call  '  Indian  depredations,'  and  I  have  just 
received  orders  from  headquarters  to  keep 
the  settlement  clear  of  all  vagabond  aborig 
ines.  I  am  afraid,  my  dear,  that  a  strict 
construction  of  the  term  would  include  your 
protegee" 

The  time  for  the  departure  of  the  Fourth 
Artillery  had  come.  The  night  before  was 
thick  and  foggy.  At  one  o'clock,  a  shot 
on  the  ramparts  called  out  the  guard  and 
roused  the  sleeping  garrison.  The  new  sen 
try,  Private  Grey,  had  challenged  a  dusky 
figure  creeping  on  the  glacis,  and,  receiving 
no  answer,  had  fired.  The  guard  sent  out 
presently  returned,  bearing  a  lifeless  figure 
in  their  arms.  The  new  sentry's  zeal,  joined 
with  an  ex-frontiersman's  aim,  was  fatal. 

They  laid  the  helpless,  ragged  form  before 
the  guard-house  door,  and  then  saw  for  the 
first  time  that  it  was  the  Princess.  Pres 
ently  she  opened  her  eyes.  They  fell  upon 
the  agonized  face  of  her  innocent  slayer,  but 
hap]y  without  intelligence  or  reproach. 


PRINCESS  BOB  AND  HER  FRIENDS.      279 

"  Georgy !  "  she  whispered. 

"Bob!" 

"  All 's  same  now.  Me  get  plenty  well 
soon.  Me  make  no  more  fuss.  Me  go  to 
Reservation." 

Then  she  stopped ;  a  tremor  ran  through 
her  limbs,  and  she  lay  still.  She  had  gone 
to  the  Eeservation.  Not  that  devised  by 
the  wisdom  of  man,  but  that  one  set  apart 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world  for  the 
wisest  as  well  as  the  meanest  of  His  crea 
tures. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


